


The Seventh Seed

by Jansma



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alien Sex, Angst, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Jennifer - Freeform, Romance, SGA Series: Legacy, Science Fiction, Stargate Atlantis - Freeform, Todd (Stargate Atlantis) - Freeform, Wraith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-01-09 18:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 109,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jansma/pseuds/Jansma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of The Legacy series written by Jo Graham, Melissa Scott and Amy Stewart.</p><p>Told from the Wraith POV.</p><p>Guide takes Jennifer onto his hive, willing to develop with her the serum that might allow peace to come to the Pegasus galaxy. He had no idea how much trouble one small human female would be, or the effect it could have on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair One - literal translation of Jennifer  
> Kine - Wraith word for human

As Guide turned the cup in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of water inside, the light reflected from his carefully lacquered talons, a dark green counterpoint against light gold. A simple wooden cup, carved from a single piece, the grain whorled in chocolate abandon against the burnt decoration of leaves, and he set it back on the table with a final click, recognising a displacement technique for mild irritation.

“Jennifer,” he began, deceptively calm, “you place yourself in too vulnerable a position. Please -” and he spread his hands, palm up in a show of politeness – “do _not_ travel into the lower decks of the hive.”

Across from him, Jennifer Keller had a mulish expression on her face, though she accepted the cup as he eased it in her direction. “I’m perfectly safe, Guide.”

Exasperated, Guide huffed, and drummed his fingers on the table surface. “You are not, despite what you believe. Neither I nor Bonewhite were there to oversee -”

“That’s the trouble,” she said, and clenched her fingers around the cup as she took a sip. “You’re always there to oversee everything I do, and I want to understand more about your society, and the households each of you have...” Her mouth thinned, and she gave a little snort. “How can I when you or the Hive Master are prowling around with me.”

“Prowling?” Despite his promise to himself that he would be patient with the Fair One, and bear in mind the promise he’d made to Steelflower at all times, Guide’s temper grew noticeably more fragile. “Prowling,” he repeated, a dangerous edge in his voice.

Biting her lip, Jennifer ducked her head, and then stared him in the eye, bold, defiant. “Yes, you prowl. Like… like that damn cat of McKay’s, except you don’t trust me.”

Having run across Newton a couple of times while he’d been on Atlantis, Guide wasn’t entirely delighted by the comparison, and narrowed his eyes while he wrestled with exasperation. “Jennifer, my dear, it simply is not safe for you, because not all the crew are happy to have a human wandering around the halls freely.”

“They know I’m here,” she pointed out, “and they know why.” Placing the cup back on the table between them, she shuffled forward and leaned towards him, her face earnest. “You and Alabaster wanted me here, and I…” she dropped her head forward, silent. Guide tilted his head, and wondered what she might say? When she looked back up, her tone had altered. “It’s just… I need more than the work, Guide. And it isn’t as if there's anything I could do apart from explore.”

On his forearm her fingers rested in a plea, and he glanced down before covering them with his own. Shaking his head, Guide sighed, and considered. “Little one, I understand, but until the council has come to a decision about where you might be allowed to go, I have to ask you to remain in the laboratory, or on the habitation level where your quarters are located.”

She closed her eyes, and Guide could see the strain in her face, her lashes dark fringes against pale skin, as she fought her emotions. He could sense them running like liquid through her mind while she battled for composure. A large part of him held more than a small amount of sympathy, and understood all too well how difficult to adapt it must be. Aggravation fell away, in abeyance once more. Perhaps there was something he could offer, some way to help? “We need to arrange supplies, and will also be visiting a planet in our territory to take on Worshippers. I could take you with me to the village, if you wish?”

“More people for the trial?” she asked, hand quite still under his. 

“Yes.”

Jennifer gave the suggestion her attention, and nodded. “I think I would like that.”

Curling his fingers around hers, he gave her a thin smile. “Then you will also consider your safety, Jennifer? You are too big a temptation for some, and they would feed on you just to find out whether what they have heard is true.” 

Extracting her hand, she hunched her shoulders and shivered a little. “Yeah, that would be bad. Sustained feeding isn’t likely to do me any good.”

“No,” he agreed, and rested his palms on his thighs. “We will make planet fall shortly, but before then, you should rest.” He cocked his head to the side in contemplation, and came to a decision. “There is an area that you might find interesting. Will you allow me to escort you there, and then to your rooms?”

“What is it?” A confused expression flashed over her face.

All sign of irritation fled, and Guide chuckled at her obvious discomfort. Rising to his feet, he offered her his arm, and smiled at her when she reluctantly took it. “I believe you will like this, and -” he patted her fingers, his enjoyment of the moment increasing – “also find it an addition worthy of note for your social studies.”

“I don’t mean to make it sound as if I’m treating this like a big experiment,” she muttered, a rose flush creeping the length of her neck and into her cheeks. Eyes downcast she avoided his gaze, but when he snorted, she glanced up, and offered a weak smile. “Okay, I know, it really is a huge experiment.”

“Without a doubt,” he purred, and opened the door. “On both sides.” They walked in companionable silence a short way, and then Guide added, “Let us hope it will be one we can both learn from, hmm?”

“Do you think so?” There was doubt in her voice, and she followed the lines of the corridor, scanning the smooth walls, the darker recesses as they went. “It involves so much change on both sides, that I wonder if we will ever come to an agreement.”

Thoughtful, Guide mulled the change that needed to take place, recognising in himself a wish for something better for his people, but accepting humans as equals, that might be the one thing to prevent the peace he and others hoped for. For too long Wraith and human had been enemies, denied their relationship to each other in order for one species to survive. Yes, they were people, and the lovely young thing holding his arm could only be regarded as a woman. True, she was no Wraith Queen, but there was no doubt in his mind that Jennifer Keller, notwithstanding how humans reckoned such, was a queen in her own way, and he honoured her for that. Bravery, and spirit beyond mere bravado defined this young woman. Few humans would have dared this, to be so far from friends and all one holds dear. 

Bending his head to her, he said, “If there are more on both sides to follow your example, then such a worthy ambition might yet be achievable.”

The colour in her cheeks increased, and she ducked her head again. “Umm…”

“You think I flatter you?”

Pointedly, she did not lift her head to return his gaze. “Don’t you?”

“Come now, Jennifer,” he admonished, gently teasing, “surely you know me somewhat better than that?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. A smile curved the corner of her lips. “Though I think very few are allowed to truly know who you are.”

The comment deserved no reply, and Guide ignored it. “Ah, we are here.” 

They came to a halt before an opening which held a narrow set of steps that curled upwards into the rear apartments of the hive. Jennifer peered up the dark recess as they began the climb, holding the rail with her free hand, reluctant to let go of Guide’s arm. He could see her interest was piqued, and allowed himself a small triumph. If she could be persuaded to spend time here instead of wandering, then he would consider it a worthwhile diversion from the duties the hive demanded.

Blue-white light filtered down the stairwell, illuminating the treads. Dusted with silver, Jennifer’s fair hair gleamed when she looked up at him, a halo around the soft outline of her face. She seemed almost ethereal as they climbed, a creature of long lost myth wreathed in shadows from the past. 

“What’s up here?” she asked, her eyes dark, round with wonder. She placed her free hand on the wall, and ran her fingertips along it. “There’s writing... and… other things.”

“Yes,” Guide agreed, and stopped long enough for her to examine the symbols, and other shapes unfolding beneath her fingers. “We do not live without beauty, Jennifer.”

“I never thought you did, Guide.”

He shot her a quick look, and gave a sombre nod. “No, perhaps you did not, my dear. I do not doubt though, that among your people there were, and are, those who do not believe we are capable of more than killing.”

Falling silent, Jennifer carried on upwards, occasionally holding them back when her hand encountered a new, strange object. Ghostly outlines appeared as they went higher, lit by the gleam coming from ahead, until they finally stepped out into a room dominated by a vast window set high in the hull of the hive. Through it, flickering streams of purple, blue and white sped past as they moved through hyperspace to their next destination, dancing shadows that brought the surroundings into stark relief. Dark-leaved plants, rich crimson and deep purple laced with silver veins, stretched their tendrils upwards, climbing the surface of walls inlaid with idealised depictions of Iratus and inscriptions, each an enamelled jewel, with bright flashes of copper or silver, in counterpoint to velvet darkness. 

Overhead, leaves formed a canopy, and along the stems tiny white flowers, or palest green, unfurled miniature petals to reveal a froth of golden stamens. Smaller plants scattered amongst the taller and, foliage dark as a fir tree, draped languid fronds across yet others, a riot of blues and lavenders splashed on daisy-like faces that turned towards the shifting light. All about the fragrance of moist, rich earth, and a gentle mist swept across the floor, piquant with the scent of cinnamon. Here and there, small creatures stirred, a buzzing insect with diaphanous wings of opalescent perfection, a scarlet lizard; its golden eyes unblinking as it followed its visitors movements from a trunk.

Jennifer's hand dropped to her side, and she turned slowly, painted in the colours of hyperspace. “Why have we never seen these places before, Guide?”

“They are not so common as they were once.” Regret coloured his voice, and she frowned, waiting for a reason. “We have been at war with each other, my dear, and before that, we hibernated until you woke us.”

“It's so beautiful,” she said, and lifted her hand, palm up, to let a brilliant gem of a small insect alight on her fingers. She watched, rapt, as it unfurled a long proboscis, and tasted her skin before taking flight again. “Why do you have it?”

A smile lifted his mouth. “My clevermen have been diligent in acquiring what they thought would please their Queen.”

“Teyla?” she guessed, and bent to take in the fragrance of a bloom. 

“Indeed.” Reaching out, he plucked a small blossom, and twirled it by the stem. “Now, they have Alabaster, and Waterlight to court with all their youth, their vigour and beauty.” Sadness surged through him as he remembered Snow, and he closed his eyes to lock away the hollow pain of grief. A soft touch on his arm came a second later, but he could not meet the sympathy he knew would be there in her regard. “And it is rightly so, little one.” Turning her hand, he pressed the flower into her palm, closed her fingers around it. “There is a time for all things.”

“'A time to every purpose...'” she murmured, and stroked the petals of the flower.

“Yes,” Guide agreed, and considered her again, this pale human woman with dark eyes, her sweet smile. “As I've already said in answer to your question, Wraith appreciate beauty, and strive to emulate it. Humans are not alone in their desire to create.”

“It's just... well, so unexpected on a warship. No one has seen this before, unless Teyla knew?” When he shook his head, Jennifer shrugged. “You didn't bother to share it with her?”

“There was little point, and little time, Jennifer, and warships, as you think of them, are our homes, and to give something of beauty to our Queen is what most men strive for.” Guide breathed in deeply of the humid air, allowing the sweet scents to fill his sensory pits and roll against his tongue. In this place, reminiscences came too easily, and there were so few he desired to recall. Perhaps it was past time to make new memories, to live for an uncertain, dangerous future?

“They need you still,” Jennifer said, and walked a little way into the arboretum. “You have a purpose. I need you to help me understand.”

“Perhaps,” he said, and joined her to gaze up through the portal, “we can help each other understand?” 

“I hope so.”

“Provided you do not wander the halls alone, I think we shall manage to find a purpose together. One for both Wraith and Kine.” As he spoke, he turned a sharp smile on her, and received a shy curve of the mouth in answer. He waved his hand at their surroundings. “Will this suffice to give you somewhere other to go if Bonewhite, Alabaster or I cannot be spared?”

“It’s a step in the right direction,” she said, and lifted the bloom in her hand to sniff appreciatively at it. A stain coloured her cheeks for a moment, and she added, as if she realised how ungrateful she sounded, and how prim. “Thank you. It is lovely here.”

“I will also assign a young cleverman to you, Sprint, who I trust you will allow to escort you?”

This time she gave a nod, and sighed. “Oh Guide, I hope we can find a way for both our peoples.”

“As do I,” he said, and bending, took her fingers to his lips to kiss their tips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cleverman - Wraith technician  
> Blade - Wraith commander

Dignity be damned, Sprint lived up to his name and rushed along the corridor, too edgy to heed scathing looks from the occupants of the halls. Late again. Pressure built like boiling water in his head, despite his resolve to ignore the floods of disapproval from his brothers. Yes, it was unseemly to run as though the Ancients were at his heels, but the Commander had given him a direct order. _Him._ A lowly cleverman, only just out of the crèche, his decision to join the sciences biological so new it still barely registered. Even if he’d always known right from the start, as far as he could remember, that his destiny lay in science and not a zenana. It had been a homecoming when his father had taken him by the hand to the laboratories set deep in his birth hive, never a true surprise.

After their hive had been destroyed in Death’s first wave, Bonewhite had taken him and a few stragglers in, and full of gratitude for both life and safety, he’d worked hard to prove his value to his new hive, as well as to Steelflower. Now Ember acknowledged his worth, and suggested him to Guide. When Guide had come straight to him, and told him, Sprint had barely been able to stop his hands from shaking.

_~You will assist Dr. Keller, and act as her guide in my absence, cleverman.~ Turning back on the edge of the door, he’d added, ~I entrust her safety to you as well, so have a care. ~_

Despite the ominous duty of guarding the Lantean, Sprint couldn’t help the tiny kernel of pride that germinated in his chest. It brought honour to him, enough perhaps so that Waterlight might look favourably on him one day...

Skidding to a halt, he ran his hands through his hair, smoothing the long silvery strands back to ruffled order, and straightened his tunic. Polished to perfection, the new leather shone under the lights, bright and clean, its embroidered decals intricate, and subtle. Tense, he approached the door, and touched the sensor, taking a step back when it opened, and then peered in. The truth be told, he had no idea what to expect, just that the Lantean would be waiting for him. 

“Come in. Don’t stand there on the doorstep.”

Blinking away tears from the harsh illumination, and emboldened by the greeting, he stepped into the room, eyes narrow as they adjusted, which took less time than he'd expected, as the as yet unseen Lantean took it down to a more comfortable level for him. Humans had poor vision, he remembered, which called for plenty of bright light. Furtively, he scanned the surroundings. 

Large benches filled the room, every available surface crammed with a multitude of equipment, not all of it Wraith in origin, which buzzed and chattered. Some perched precariously on the edges of whatever table it had made its home, while to the rear, others flickered, and yet more stood on the floor, discarded almost it seemed. Beside one of the microscopes, a slight human woman, fair hair tied back in a braid, watched him with guarded dark eyes. The Fair One. 

“You must be the cleverman Guide chose to work with me,” she said and moved to the front of the bench to perch against it while she appraised him.

Remembering his manners, Sprint gave her a slight bow. “Dr. Keller.”

“Come closer.” A small hand beckoned him nearer.

Uncertain what to make of this, Sprint took a few steps nearer, and looked down at her. Tiny, though not so dainty as Steelflower, she exuded an air of authority and quiet conviction that he found unusual. Any human he’d met before had been petrified, or insolent, unless they were a Worshipper, and the Fair One didn’t demonstrate those qualities at all. Without fear, she met his gaze steadily, and held out her off hand – except humans didn’t have off hands. Puzzled, he stared at the extended palm.

“We shake hands when we meet new people,” Dr. Keller said, quite composed and, when he didn’t respond, reached out and took his hand in a firm grip and rapid demonstration.

Startled by the gesture, he stared at his palm as if he expected to see an imprint burned there, and uncertain how to react, he settled on a polite nod. “Welcome,” he said, knowing it sounded feeble. “My thanks.”

In return she gave him a thin smile, and indicated the machinery around them. “I guess you know why you’re here?”

“To help with your work,” he said, convinced of his ability. Even Ember thought he was skilled; he’d said as much, and the chief cleverman was meticulous about who he spoke well of.

“Yes, there is that, although Guide and I have most of it in hand.”

“It is a great honour to work alongside Guide.” Flustered by the eager way he’d spat out the words, he shuffled his feet, because for a moment he’d sounded like a fruit-fed baby. 

“Yes, well… he’s no easy taskmaster,” she warned, and stepped back round the bench, her fingers rifling through countless sheets of paper before looking back up at him. Tipping her head to one side, she added, “For the most part, you’ll be my assistant, but you also get to be my escort, and show me round.” Under her breath, she muttered, “As long you don’t escort me anywhere too sensitive, that is.”

“The Commander did mention I should escort you,” he agreed, disappointed to think the only reason he’d been noticed finally was for that, and so missed her discontent at first. When a sense of frustration reached him, Sprint wondered if he’d given offence? He lapsed back into silence, uncertain how to respond, as this fell well outside his experience. Contact with humans, even Worshippers, hadn’t been a frequent event before coming to the Bright Venture. 

Dr. Keller sighed, and turned away, crossing to another table. Crooking her finger to beckon him over, she said, “I’d be grateful if you could begin collating this information into a useable format. Start by correlating the pain response directly to the amount of serum given, and indicate which batch is most effective at lessening symptoms.”

His eyes narrowed at the imperative gesture, and he lifted his chin, stared down his nose at her. Did she think they were equal? For all her brilliance, and he could not doubt it because she worked alongside Guide and Alabaster, she was food, no better than a pet at best, and if those rumours were true…

“If you’re thinking I don’t have the authority, cleverman, think again.” Hard brown eyes assessed him with a level of frostiness he’d seen only in queens. “Guide will not allow insubordination from you.” Keller lifted her own chin, and gave a little sniff. “His orders are unequivocal.”

That much was certain, Sprint thought, and drew a breath to release it in a low growl. It would not do to antagonise her further, not if she had the Commander’s ear, and it seemed she did. He moved the few steps to the table, and hissed softly. “As you wish, Doctor.” 

Before him, the enormity of the task became all too apparent, and he stared, dismayed, at the copious amounts of data already on the table. There were two, Lantean, computers connected through a number of pulsing cables to the ship’s mainframe, the screens bright with rapidly revolving figures and samples of DNA, along with another three tablets, Wraith derived, spewing more as he watched. Beside them, settled in a narrow gap, in Guide’s own scrawling hand, were numerous statistics, and observations, plus another two sets of neater documents. Mind vaulting through any number of hoops, Sprint marvelled they’d managed to get the machines to talk to each other, but he dismissed it out of hand as useless guesswork. He turned back to the Doctor, dispirited, and somewhat overwhelmed.

“We like to take paper notes, sometimes,” Dr. Keller remarked, and flipped the cardboard cover off Guide’s work, her mouth quirked in amusement at his expense. “It helps us think, seeing it on paper.”

“Even the Queen?” Sprite marvelled, and recovered fast, to reach out a finger to the pile scribed by Alabaster. Too fascinated to remain insulted for long, Sprint’s mind moved to rapid assessment, scanning the documents rapidly as he shuffled them through his hand.

“She’s been without advanced technology for quite a long while.” Keller’s voice was dry, and she pointed at a large white board propped haphazardly against a wall. “That’s where we do a lot of the thinking before it ends up in those.” 

“I see,” he said and crossed to inspect the object. There were a number of tubes by it, so he picked one up, curious. Made of metal, white, with Lantean scribbled over it, it didn’t seem to do anything even when he pressed it. 

“Writing implement,” she explained, and mimed turning it end up, “for the board. There’s a top on it.” She retrieved a similar tube from the table and brought it over to him, then proceeded to demonstrate with a hurried burst of activity. “It’s easier to rectify mistakes too.” With a swipe of her hand she rubbed the writing off the board, leaving it smeared but ready. “As you can see.”

Tentatively, Sprint copied her, and jotted his name on the board. Lifting a brow ridge he huffed softly. Yes, there was an application for such a simple tool. He noticed that propped against the wall behind it there were a number of other boards, the work on them dizzying in its complexity, and he edged closer, careful not to smudge anything.

“You want me to transpose this to another format,” he guessed, and glanced at the Doctor for confirmation. 

“Yes, that’s another task you can get on with.” Turning her back on him, Keller wandered to another set of instruments and a centrifuge. She busied herself with a pipette, began to measure serum into several racks of test tubes. “You can start now, cleverman,” she ordered, her voice firm, the voice of a queen, and Sprint jumped to it. 

Grabbing a tablet from the table, he began to enter the information from the stacked boards; carefully annotating when needed, as well as ensuring the salient points were covered. In the background, he could hear the rustle of movement, the sound of her feet as they moved across the floor, and he deliberated on what he knew of her while he worked.

Younger than he, he reckoned, by a number of years, but mature enough to be in charge of an important project, and considered an equal with Guide, who had a remarkable mind for a blade. The small conceit shocked him, that he would dare to think such a thing, but the lords of his mother’s zenana had been dullards, except for his father, but then his father had been a cleverman too. Covering the disquiet such a thought caused in him, Sprint dwelled more on the young human woman, watching her surreptitiously from the corner of his eyes. 

Rumours ran like sand through fingers about this Lantean and her position in Alabaster’s inner circle. Worshippers whispered of many things, and one old servant insisted Guide had fed on her, and that the feeding no longer killed? Sprint fought all he was with that information and her status, but yet, Guide honoured her, and gave her the Gift. So the rumours said – not that Sprint paid too much attention to gossip, especially from the Worshippers quarters. Which left him in a sticky situation. How to broach the subject of feeding when the human in question occupied such an unlikely position? 

“Have you finished watching me?”

The unexpected question jolted him from his reverie, and embarrassed at being caught out, he ducked his head. “I -”

Keller waved his refutal away before it had the chance to leave his lips. “Please credit me with more intelligence than that, cleverman.”

Sprint hissed, but could hardly deny the truth. “My… apologies.” It sounded graceless, and he resented justifying himself to a human, no matter what her origin and ability. “I did not mean to offend.”

“Of course not. You just wanted to know how it is a human manages to have the ear of the Commander and his Queen?” 

The confrontation came as a surprise, and Sprint felt himself begin to respond as he would to any insolent human. With an effort he pulled back his reaction, and stood stiff, and straight, radiating anger, an anger matched equally by Keller. Sprint deflated. This would not do at all. He could not allow a simple mistake to nullify every bit of good that had come from finding a home when he had been Queenless, and without brothers. Would an explanation, a fuller apology really be so difficult? 

“I… if my... curiosity offended,” he said, and felt calm begin to reassert itself, “it was not intentional.” Drawing himself to his full height, he decided on complete honesty and inclined his head politely. “Doctor, my experience of humans is limited, and I am young -” Sprint spread his palms out, upwards, intent on conveying his unease, and willingness to learn – “and only a cleverman, no blade, so it is not my place to question why Guide has chosen me to assist you.”

“Though you have,” she said, rage in the soft tones. “Questioned.”

Sprint lowered his head, and looked back up at her, intent. “It is true, I did, and do, even if it is a misplaced curiosity.” Sighing, he added, “But it is also because I am a cleverman, I am curious, and I want to understand why you are here.”

Keller leaned forward, her palms flat on the table's surface, and scanned him keenly as an x-ray. Whatever she saw must have satisfied her, because she gave a brusque nod. “Thank you. I accept that justification... Sprint.”

She uttered his name almost as an afterthought, and sent him another searching look, as if she didn’t know whether he would accept that familiarity. In answer, Sprint bowed, palms at his side, courteous and proper. 

“My name is Jennifer,” she said, that look still in her eyes. “Though I believe I am also known as Fair One.”

“Jennifer,” he repeated, and met her gaze, disquieted by the information, that she also knew how they identified her. “I… am honoured.” This did not amount to trust; that much he could tell from the way she held herself, but then he did not quite trust himself or see how this relationship could develop further. They were so different. Wraith and Kine, always in opposition.

“Perhaps you should ask what you want to know?”

The rest of the question hung between them, palpable as a gravid Queen, and Sprint held himself still. What he might ask fermented in his mind, and he clenched his fingers to a fist, uncertain, and suspicious. A test, this could well be a test set by Guide to ensure his pet remained safe because he would know her name. It would shape and mould her to a woman, not Kine, a person he could not feed on.

“Rumours,” she guessed, eyes narrow, shrewd. “Rumours are the life breath of a ship, Sprint, and Wraith are no different to those of human origin, I think.”  
“There are many about you, Lady,” he agreed. “Many come from the throats of both Worshipper and Wraith.”

“What do they say?” she asked, curiosity driving the question. 

“That you were food for Guide.” There it was. Bald, unvarnished.

Her mouth quirked, and she nodded. “That is true. And what else have they said?”

“That feeding does not harm you anymore.” 

“Harm is a pretty relative term, Sprint, but yes, there is truth in that too.”

All the years of culling, of hunting for food grown scarce could now be over, and Sprint ran his gaze across the banks of busy machines, the information, and possibilities for the future blossomed. Where once there had been desert, it was now in full bloom, and the colours of that future were endless. 

“We will never be hungry again,” he said softly, in full realisation of the true honour he had been given.

“No,” she agreed. And looking to the distance, across the room to the portal, where hyperspace spun its endless dance, she said, “And there is friendship, perhaps.”


	3. Chapter 3

Alabaster settled back in her seat, handing over the toy ship from Earth. A flimsy thing, not even representative of Lantean technologies, Darling loved to play with it. A gift from Torren and Atlantis, it had been a present to Teyla’s son from John Sheppard, and one of the human boy’s treasured possessions. Her son gave her a grin far too reminiscent of Guide, and made to run off with it, but turned suddenly, green-gold eyes bright but solemn.

_~Mother, when will Torren come to see me? ~_

_~I do not know, ~_ she said, and his face fell. As the only child on a hive, with no playmates, things couldn’t be easy for him. _~Perhaps Guide will know when Torren will come to visit us? We will ask him. ~_

 _~Grandfather does not know, ~_ Darling said, doubtful, and then brightened, sun after a squall. _~He said he will take me with him when he flies his dart. ~_

 _~We shall see, ~_ Alabaster said, distracted, but bestowed a warm smile when disappointment crashed over him again. _~There is time yet for such an adventure. ~_

Too many things occupied her mind to prioritise Darling’s request, though it did occur to her he might like to stay with Teyla. She played with the idea, wondering if the Lanteans would allow it? Attention back on her fidgeting son, she smiled. _~I have no doubt you will make a fine pilot, my son, but not today. ~_

_~But…~_

_~I will talk to Teyla Emmagan, Darling, but you must wait until then. ~_ There was a finality to her tone Darling could not miss, and he nodded, eyes grave.

_~Yes, mama. ~_

The boy wandered off into the bathing room clutching his toy; ready to splash about and spread water across all available surfaces… a small price to pay for some short-lived happiness. She was still musing over the possibility of sending Darling to Teyla when her door opened, and Guide walked in, unannounced, with Jennifer Keller and a young cleverman trailing closely behind. 

“My daughter,” Guide murmured, and bowed a little, before moving out of the way to allow the others past. “I trust we find you prepared?”

“Completely, father,” she said, and eyed the cleverman hanging on Guide’s words as if gold spilled from his lips.

She caught the flavour of his mind, a jet stream moving fast, air flowing over hard, bright surfaces, Sprint, and in turn, he caught her eye, bowing politely, long braids falling to cover his face and the tattoo on his neck. Very young indeed. She bestowed a gracious nod on him in acknowledgement, and his eyes lit with adoration. 

“Sprint, you are welcome,” she murmured softly, and he was hers, spell complete.

Pushing forward, Jennifer made a revolted noise, and headed into the chambers, making for her favourite spot by the window. Blonde hair spilled from an untidy plait, as she leaned forward to follow their progress into the planetary system. They’d not long dropped out of hyperspace, and like the Lantean, Alabaster loved to observe it too. Watching the stars fade away as they headed into a new system always gave her immense pleasure, and this orange star’s family was especially spectacular. 

Triplet gas giants sat at the outer edges, each bigger than Jupiter, two surrounded by battalions of moons, the other by multicoloured rings lit within to glorious sea blue, sooty greys, and reds that bled to purples and orange. In the goldilocks margin, a pair habitable planets orbited their primary, both very different in their ecology, the first, beloved once of the Ancients, but now little more than empty desert. A long time ago, they’d each had a thriving civilisation, but the culture nearer the sun had died out leaving only the remnants of fabulous architecture and rusted technologies of little use to anyone. The true legacy sat on the second world, which held a population of Worshippers long associated with Snow and her faction. 

“So lovely.” Jennifer set her tablet down on the cushions, and glanced at Alabaster over her shoulder. “I can see why you always sit here.” Kneeling, she rested her elbows on the sill, chin in hands. “How long before we get there?”

“Jennifer!” 

A small body careened out of the bathroom, and launched onto Jennifer’s lap excitedly, burrowing into her arms, and wrapping his own round her neck in a stranglehold. A smile curled Jennifer’s mouth as she quirked a brow at Alabaster over the top of his head, and she eased the tentacle grip before smoothing silvery hair and returning the enthusiastic hug.

“I’m pleased to see you too, Darling.” 

Guide stifled a chuckle, and gestured to Sprint. “Take the boy exploring, cleverman.”  
For a moment, both Darling and Sprint wore similar expressions, both mulish, both disappointed, like any lad. “We will be done soon enough,” Guide said, gruff with impatience while Jennifer deposited the child onto his feet. “No more than a few hours.”

There was a moment's hesitation, the slightest inkling the cleverman might rebel, but then he lowered his head politely, and held out his off hand to Darling. “Commander.”

Dragging his feet, Darling cast a look back into the room as they left, and Alabaster didn’t have to read his mind to know what he thought. The youngster wanted to spend time with Keller, to talk to her about Torren, the games they’d played on Atlantis, and how he would take her exploring on the hive, because he was a blade and could keep her safe.

Once the door shut behind them, Guide wandered to where Jennifer sat, picking the tablet up before he joined her, and arranged the skirts of his coat with careful precision. “We should arrive by the time we’ve finished discussing these results, my dear.”

Alabaster noted the way his eyes lingered on Jennifer’s face, how faint rose burnt her cheeks for a moment, that she lowered her gaze, shy. Because his thoughts were guarded, Alabaster didn’t know what passed between them; he would not allow her to see past the careful, nondescript emotions at the surface of his mind. It bothered her because it should not be an issue she had to address, or spent any time on. There was enough to deal with without such nonsense. 

There weren’t enough humans to undertake the trials and didn’t her human retainers jostle amongst themselves to have the honour of being the next subject? Surely those were enough of a complication? Add personal obligation for their safety, and Alabaster felt certain she could explode. After all, she'd assured their families of their safety, promised it to herself even, and such faithfulness and honour deserved no less regard, despite the willingness, to a man, to sacrifice themselves in her name. Alabaster stifled a sigh, frustrated and scanned her father again, wondering how to tackle the problem. Then there was Dr. Keller…

Yes, the very small trial worked on Jennifer and a scant handful of others, but some were still so sick they’d needed to go home. Finding exactly the right combination of genetic resilience, and the solid immune system required for ongoing tests was proving difficult. If only all the humans of Pegasus were blessed with the feral vigour of the Lanteans, then the job would be easier. Add into that the multitude of possible side effects caused to Wraith, and it seemed as though the project would falter before they'd really started.

“So,” she said, and eyed them both, “what do the latest simulations project?”

Shoulders against the hull, Jennifer bit her lip in thought. “Well, we're seeing a decrease in the production of enzyme from one of the batches, which -” she took the tablet from Guide, and ran her fingers over the bright surface, pulling up a number of graphs - “is great for the human involved, as there is less likelihood of addiction but, may prove less so for the Wraith that feed on them.” She handed the machine to Alabaster.

Scanning the diagrams, Alabaster focused more keenly on a particular section for a moment, and then keyed in more data. “Is there a need to feed more often?”

“So far, we have not been able to correlate that,” Guide said, and crossed his feet. He gave a shrug. “The sample group is too small to be conclusive.”

“I don’t think we’ll ever achieve a large enough sample, Guide,” Jennifer said, dryly. “Simulations are what we’ve got to rely on.”

“Which as you know,” he said, and slid a long glance her way, “are subject to misinterpretation, as well as computer error.”

“Like false negatives aren’t possible in a real life trial,” she scoffed in response, and earned a rumbling snarl.

Shaking her head, Alabaster handed over the tablet to Guide, and huffed. “The Doctor is correct, father. Unless we subject large numbers of Worshippers to batches of serum, we will never be certain, and that we cannot afford after what Death did to the human population.”

“I know.” His eyes lit with anger, still, at the profligate waste that one had committed. “But so few cannot sustain our population, and we must work quickly to deliver a treatment that will work for larger numbers or risk another war.”

“Agreed.” 

The awful possibility folded round them, a grim pall of silence, something they would work hard to prevent by every measure they could but, even so, much stood in the way... 

Pessimism would serve no purpose, and Alabaster turned, bright enthusiasm restored, to Jennifer, those horrors bolted down where they could not disturb so readily. “Have you projected how long between feeding is sustainable for the human involved?”

“Without noticeable deterioration in cells, feeding should not be less than three weeks apart. And that’s only if the human is at peak fitness, and allowed to recuperate properly.”

“Three weeks is long enough.” Guide’s talons tapped over the screen, gaze fixed on another graph, which he tipped towards her. “Despite your reservations, Jennifer.”

“Maybe if the reserve is sufficiently large, then yes, I’d agree. So that will be despite your wish to hurry.” Jennifer glanced down, sniffed and raised her chin, ignoring the soft growl he uttered in annoyance. “But… we can’t guarantee this solution will be seen as a solution throughout the galaxy.”

“Be that as it may,” Alabaster’s tone was firm, and she pursed her mouth, looking from one to the other, keen to stop the dispute before it began, “I believe the population here might be of some use in arriving at a good indication of how effective the treatment will be in a larger population.”

“Do you have genotypes available for comparison?” Jennifer asked, tuning out Guide’s glare while she focused on Alabaster.

“Some have an addition to the base pairs, Jennifer -” Alabaster said, gesturing for Guide to hand the tablet over - “as you can see. It should allow for the serum to bond more readily, and work more rapidly.”

“Will it reduce the pain threshold further?” Jennifer studied the diagrams, flicking through the information. 

“That is a possible side effect, yes.”

“But,” Guide interrupted, “it might also delay healing or affect longevity in Wraith.”

“Well, the way I see it,” Jennifer said, fixing him with a hard glare, “is you can’t have it all ways, and humans are willing to risk the procedure to benefit -”

“Indeed,” he growled, dismissive. “But we must administer the treatment to more than the scant handful you are willing to allow before any sacrifice for the greater good humanity has made can be fully earned.”

Alabaster’s eyes narrowed when Jennifer fell silent, her mouth thin and white, but she realised this was an old argument for them. She also perceived, even though both were genuinely aggravated, they often overlooked important disparities in values. Notwithstanding Guide’s scathing comment, he had immense respect for the woman, and in particular he valued her compassion. Even as she watched, Guide’s eyes softened, the rigid golden fire replaced by something gentler, kinder, and she drew a breath when he reached out to grip her fingers.

“Come, Jennifer, we should not allow our differences to cause a rift.” The deep voice held a warm note, almost caressing. “Perhaps we will be able to find the missing information here, and integrate it to benefit both our peoples?”

Slim fingers tightened in his grasp, and Jennifer met his gaze. “Guide… we can’t rely on just that one hope.”

“I know,” he said, searching her face still, solemn. “The task is monumental -”

“And may never be accomplished -” Alabaster interjected, and Guided placed Jennifer’s hand on the seat, patting it gently, as if that had been his intention all the time – “if we do not concentrate on each part carefully with as few disruptions as possible.”

Guide met Alabaster’s gaze, a guarded look on his face, and Jennifer clutched her fingers together, a child caught taking too much honey, her dark eyes stony in spite of the spots of pink on her cheeks. Unruffled by his guile, Alabaster snorted; she’d seen it in action far too many times as a child.

 _~Commander, ~_ she knew her tone was harsh, authoritative, _~have a care. Treat her gently, and with respect. ~_

Faint surprise showed in his eyes for a second. _~You do not think I would, my daughter? ~_ Aloud, stonewall already back in place, he said, “What few… disruptions there are, Madam, I assure you they are already kept at a minimum.”

“Perhaps I should go?” Jennifer edged further away from Guide, and managed to not quite look at Alabaster as she made to rise. 

“Stay.” Guide’s hand connected with her wrist, tightened briefly and released her again when she sat still. “Whatever is spoken here should be heard by you too.” Green-gold glared at her, and he leaned forward, annoyance undoubted now. “My lady, you may rest assured nothing interferes with our work, and it progresses well, as you can see if you examine the data thoroughly.”

Stung by the rebuke, enough still of the child remained to hope for his good opinion, so Alabaster retrieved the tablet, never taking her eyes from Guide’s, but then she dropped her gaze, and read. What she saw satisfied her, which meant perhaps she could allow him this little dalliance. Provided neither allowed it to get in the way of the work then it might also be beneficial. Both were lonely, both enjoyed each other’s company, and because Jennifer could never be a rival, it had a certain appeal, other than she was Lantean. Apart from that lone sticking point no harm to hive or crew could come from this flirtation. 

Lifting her head, she nodded, meeting Jennifer’s worried brown eyes with a tiny smile. “Perhaps you are hungry, Jennifer?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonewhite - Kenny  
> Hive Master - Second in Command

Ahead of them, through retreating trees at the edge of the settlement, the sea cliffs dropped away, sheer and nearly vertical, white chalk faces covered by shrieking avians whirling about on the wind, feather dusters attempting to reach nests and young while the sea roared furiously below. Beneath their feet, a thick carpet of pine needles dulled the sound of their approach to the village, which teetered on the cliff precariously as a tightrope walker, its population in a state of excitement.

Behind, close on Bonewhite's heels, Jennifer Keller trotted, bag bouncing on her hip, followed at a respectable distance by the cleverman Guide had allocated as an assistant. Bringing up the rear, a handful of drones and their handler completed the party – a precaution, in case any Worshippers decided to forget their place, and made a play for the Lantean. There existed an underlying resentment, which the Hive Master suspected might have something to do with her elevated position in the hive pecking order. She wasn’t born to it, but yet the Commander and his Queen had seen fit to treat her as unique. Which she was, something that stuck in his gorge, regardless of the rationale?

For many reasons, which Bonewhite chose to keep to himself, the Lantean female troubled him; despite her outward tolerance of all that was Wraith, his qualms were not so simply resolved. Alabaster and Guide however, whose acceptance of her into their inner circle was nothing short of miraculous, did not share his unease and deemed her trustworthy. 

“Stay close to Sprint at all times, Doctor,” Bonewhite said, as they emerged into the clearing, and onto the pathway, pleased none of these misgivings were noticeable to any but himself. 

“I had no intention of getting lost,” she said, offence all too evident at the casual remark; she drew up alongside.

He flicked a glance at her. “Never-the-less, your safety is paramount, and you will remain within the boundaries of the village.”

“Will Guide join us?” she asked; the muscles of her neck tightened as she spoke.

“As soon as he is able,” Bonewhite said, uncaring if she kept up with his long strides. Pens full of beasts were strung out in a thin line as they marched closer; moist black noses poked over the wooden rails, curious, ears and tails flicking at energetic, copper-coloured, insects, the thick ripeness of manure eddying to his nostrils. “You will select the relevant test subjects and then we will return to the hive.”

Keller made a soft noise, and looked away to the end of the village, a brightness in her eyes the Hive Master didn’t understand. “Right.”

Hurrying towards them on the footpath, a tall male approached, obviously apprehensive, but servile. As he drew closer, he swept into a bow. “My Lord. You are most welcome.” 

“You have brought your villagers together?” Bonewhite asked, wasting no time on preamble, and carried on regardless of the man’s nod. “This is Dr. Keller, and she will be responsible for taking the required samples, and for making the final selection.”

Curiosity flickered in his eyes, and his gaze ran across the woman, hard, calculating. “As you wish, my Lord.”

“I do.” With his off hand Bonewhite gripped the man’s forearm, finger armour piercing thin summer robes. “Do not underestimate her importance to us, Village Master, or incur my… attention.”

“My Lord, you have my word.”

Enough oily obsequiousness coated the honorific that Bonewhite bared his teeth.   
“If -” he leaned in close, so his breath stirred the hair lying on the man’s cheek - “any harm befalls her, mark my words, there will be recompense.”

The Village Master schooled his features to indifference, and dropped from the waist into a much lower bow. Spots of blood blossomed beneath Bonewhite’s talons. “All we have is yours, my Lord.”

“On that you may rely,” the Hive Master purred and shoved him away. “Now, if you will, lead the way.” Mute, the man flourished his hand towards the village, and set off. Bonewhite fell back to talk to Keller, his eyes locked on his figure. “Be careful of that one, Doctor.”

A sharp look slid his way, and she pursed her mouth. “I thought these villagers knew your hive?”

“They do.” The warning needed clarification, so he added; “He has not long been Master here and is, as yet, uncertain of his followers.”

From the way she fell silent, Bonewhite knew she digested the information, and he pondered on her again, wondering what she saw to keep her in so alien an environment? In front of them, the head man had sped on, coming to a halt only when he reached the small committee of elders who’d also come out to greet them. Except for two women, they were all male; chat stopped as they came within earshot, and each dropped into respectful bows.

“If you ask me,” the Doctor muttered, disquieted, “there’s far too much of that for my liking.” 

The comment deserved no reply, and all the same, she turned a smile on the group, emotions well hidden under a thin façade of controlled acceptance. Beneath it, Bonewhite discerned the piquancy of disappointment he’d touched before. It begged the question what she expected of Worshippers? Did she truly believe they would be like her and not emulate their masters in all things?

“You know full well, child,” he said, of a mind to instruct this woman more gently than his usual want, “how it is progression is achieved in our society.”

“Yes,” she said, and would not meet his gaze, her features hardened. “Assassination.”

“Then you should have no problem identifying how such matters proceed here, Doctor.” 

Silence greeted him, but he had no wish to pursue the conversation further, fixed as he was on the need to complete this mission; she would accept this or she would not. Far too many variables played out in the village for his peace of mind, and he would have preferred Guide to oversee the human as he’d proposed. Instead, the sudden meeting of Alabaster with Waterlight meant Guide's presence was required while they discussed the alliance, and who should join. A nuisance, as other issues pressed on his attention. He lent half an ear to the speech of welcome the Village Master and his mate, the Lady of the Village, had prepared. The woman carried a wooden goblet, which she offered the Doctor graciously.

Exchanging a quick glance with him, Keller took the offered goblet, the liquid in it viscous. “Thank you,” she said, equally courteous, and took a sip; it stained her lips red, a deep ruby. “It’s delicious.”

Unimpressed, Bonewhite huffed, gaze tracing the path that lead further up into the nest of huts. “Who is chosen to take us?”

The other female stepped into his line of sight, tall, dark, her chin lifted proudly as if she was new to this game. Tilting his head, the Hive Master scanned her, interested for the first time, noting white skin, and pale green eyes, unusual in a human. She stiffened under his scrutiny, fingers wrapping around themselves nervously until the bones showed stark and white under her skin. Not so used to Wraith, this one.

“You?” he asked, amused.

The head woman poured a scornful look at the other woman, and sniffed. “Yes. This one will assist the Doctor. She has some small ability with healing.”

Keller’s interest piqued almost immediately, and she appraised her new assistant. “An interest in healing?”

“Yes, lady, if it please you.” The bow was clumsy, uncertain.

“Well,” Keller said, and nodded at the village elders politely, but eager to leave, “show us the way.” Slipping past Bonewhite with Sprint in tow, the Lantean walked shoulder to shoulder with the villager. “So, what’s your name?” she asked, as they headed away. “I’m Jennifer.”

~xxXXxx~

“Okamy.”

Sprint followed at a slight distance to the two humans, not keen to place himself beside them. Although he and Jennifer had reached a state of awkward understanding, he still found he couldn’t relate to her on any meaningful level. Add in a Worshipper, and the predicament simply got larger. A Worshipper, no less, who seemed as ill at ease with him, as he with the Lantean. 

“Okamy,” Jennifer repeated, as they moved into the open space of the village's centre. “When did you become interested in healing?”

“As a child, lady,” the woman said, and veered out of the way of two youngsters who'd run in front of them in a fit of good spirits, which crashed the moment they spotted Sprint. They stood to one side, hunched into a bow. “There was a man here once who'd been a healer before he'd come to the Wraith. He taught me what he knew.”

“How long ago was that?” Thoughtful, Jennifer studied the children, noted the way they kept their gaze lowered. Interested by her attention to them, Sprint observed them too, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary from their behaviour. 

“Forty years,” Okamy said. 

Astonishment shot across Jennifer's face, but she recovered quickly. “I see.” 

“It is not so uncommon that we should live so long,” Okamy murmured, her head ducked down, almost in apology.

“A well known effect of the enzyme,” Sprint added, interest in the woman elevated to some extent. Who was this man she spoke of? 

Oblivious to the devastating effect of her words on the Worshipper, Jennifer directed bile at the cleverman. “Thanks for stating the obvious.” 

Nettled, Sprint bit back whatever he was going to say, the words drying on his tongue, and endured the probing, challenging stare Okamy sent his way. This would not do. How could he accept such disgrace in front of one who should never have beheld it? Fingers clenched to a fist, tight around the handmouth, he felt the first drops of enzyme pool in his palm, and wondered how to tackle the issue when Jennifer so clearly did not see the affect. Never had Sprint wanted to set himself against his Commander by seeking revolt, no matter how trivial, and in doing so, lose the good graces of his Queen. Such audacity appalled him. Entrails roiling with indecision, he could not allow this to happen again, but the choices were limited.

They stopped next to a hut wide open to the elements; the only sign of use a thin curl of smoke rising from the hole in the thatched roof. Rough rectangles cut into the fabric of the walls allowed some light to enter the gloomy space, and Jennifer disappeared into the interior followed by Okamy, bag already swung down from her shoulder, as she scanned the building. If, indeed, it could be dignified with such a title. Disgusted, Sprint growled, and went in behind them both, the current annoyance masking his disquiet.

Shoved against one of the walls, a table and a couple of chairs were the only furnishings, the fire crackling in the hearth, belching smoke and ash. Hard-packed, the dirt floor looked well used, and Sprint scuffed at it with a toe, raising a small storm of dust, his gaze narrow as he considered the complications of acquiring uncontaminated samples.

“We have need of more supplies,” he stated, not bothering to address Jennifer. “It will not be possible to supply the laboratory correctly in these conditions.”

“Yeah,” she said, her own mouth thin and disapproving. “It’s pretty basic.” Setting her bag on the table, Jennifer reached across and pulled open one of the rough wooden shutters covering the windows so light spilled in across the surface and into the room. Smoke haze drifted as a soft breeze disturbed the air, thinning, dancing into eddies. “Okamy, is there any running water nearby – a stream, maybe?”

“A well,” the woman said, and gestured outside. “I can bring water if you require it?”

“Good idea,” Jennifer said, and coughed, then shrugged off her jacket before placing it on the table beside the bag. “We’ll need to scrub this, so bring something for cleaning too.” She eyed Sprint while Okamy disappeared into the village. “I think Bonewhite needs to know.” 

The cleverman inclined his head. “I have spoken with the Hive Master, and he will ensure the equipment we require is sent.”

“Lights,” the Lantean said, firm, and folded her arms across her middle. Shaking her head, she glanced over at him. “We need good lighting to take blood and specimens.”

“We do,” he agreed, and circled the small room, measuring it as he paced, and thinking how to broach her error of judgement.   
Coming to a halt, he leaned forward, fingertips resting on the ledge of a window, and peered out at the faded, greyish, straw-like grass, thin blades rippling as the wind stirred them. From behind, he heard her throw open another shutter, and then she stood alongside him, looking up at his face, hand rested on his forearm, the only time she’d volunteered physical contact after their brief handshake. Taken aback, he stared at her, his mouth dry, uncertain what this could mean.

“I owe you… an apology,” she said, and her hand fell away from his arm. “I should not have spoken to you as I did in front of Okamy.”

“The… the deed is done,” he stammered, searching her face, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. “It was… unseemly, Doc… Jennifer, and needs repair.”

“How, though?” she mused. 

There was no easy answer to her query, Sprint knew, and he tightened his fingers against the wood, wondering what other shocks lay in store for him. The only excuse was her ignorance, and perhaps, regrettably, the arrogance of a Lantean, a human of Earth. 

“I do not know,” he said. Taking a short breath, he turned to face her, wondering at his nerve. “Jennifer, I -”

A hand stopped him, and the corner of her mouth quirked a little. “We are equals, you and I, Sprint, but I also know dissent isn’t such a great idea amongst Worshippers.” Her gaze settled outside while she drew her thoughts together. “Not that I truly believe anyone can shift those beliefs for a moment – they are too deeply ingrained, both in your society and theirs.”

“Their society is ours.”

“Yeah,” she granted, and sighed, an obvious struggle taking place. “I may not like it, and I don’t - it smacks too much of slavery, for me. Earth has recent history showing the lasting effect this has on the psyche of a culture.”

“Even if I agreed,” Sprint said, cautiously, “the changes you want will take a long time to manifest. And if I don’t have the same opinion, it matters not at all, because these are issues for my betters, for queens and blades.” 

“Do you really think so?” The look she gave him was sharp, and made him reassess.

“I see your point,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation, and thought more on what she’d suggested, albeit subliminally. 

Ten thousand years of culture and social convention stood between him and true equality for the people of Pegasus. If change did not start with him, and the likes of Jennifer Keller, it had little chance of filtering down to the masses. Still, a part of him quailed at the task, the enormous responsibility placed on so few voices, and he questioned if Guide truly believed, or Alabaster, that even with a successful retrovirus there would ever be the egalitarianism she so believed in.

“Is your society so equal then?” he asked, wondering.

Pain passed over her face, swift as fire, and was gone, replaced by a haunted look deep in her eyes. “There will always be greed and division, for that’s human nature. Even the Ancients were not above such petty behaviour.”

Sprint nodded agreement. Didn’t the genesis of his own species, once shrouded, point to overweening arrogance, as well despising their children, all three strands abandoned to their fate when none served their purpose? Truly, they were brothers and sisters alike, orphans all. Though…  
“You did not answer my question,” he said, and watched.

“Because I cannot,” she admitted, and turned away. “Earth is not equal.”

A passing wind blew over the edges of his mind, and Sprint stored what occurred between them in a promise to study it later, and in depth. Right now, another concern pressed on him. “He comes.”

“Guide,” she breathed, and smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~ = telepathy

Industrious noises greeted Guide as he came upon the hut, Jennifer's voice clear and knife like as she snapped out direction. Before he had come to know her, and admire the rod of steel she had for a spine, he had taken her for a meek little thing, which needed gentle handling lest it run away at the first loud bang. A sharp grin settled on his mouth, which fled as soon as he saw Sprint hurry to the door, flustered, his youthful features frozen to immobility as soon as he saw Guide. The tang of bewilderment lingered, a miasma of guilt, and anger, that gave him pause.

 _~What has happened here? ~_ he demanded, and quickened his pace, the skirts of his coat flurrying like the wings of a crow. Anger bubbled. 

_~My Lord, ~_ that one said, and inclined his head politely, backing off with his palms spread wide. _~Nothing untoward.~_

Guide grunted, and pushed past, entering the room, relieved when Jennifer looked up from her task with a smile in her eyes. “All is well?” he asked and strode over to her, checking for any hint of upset. “No one has attempted to harm you?”

Putting a dripping brush down, she scrubbed her forearm across her forehead, and frowned. “I'm fine, and yes, so far. Why?”

Uncertain, Guide slid a narrow glance to the cleverman, and grunted. Something had passed between these two, and though he could extract information from the boy he felt disinclined to bother, if only because the troubled expression that crept into Jennifer's eyes told him this should be left for them to resolve. On the surface, they functioned well enough, and he no longer had to worry about her on the hive, which had been his problem initially. Here, well, the current circumstances changed matters. Guide disliked most intensely the air of competitive violence permeating the small settlement. Coups were not unheard of, but they invariably caused far too many deaths, and in an already stricken human population it did not bode well. Something else brooded here, too... something he couldn't quite place.

“There are other concerns at play,” he said, finally, and ran his fingers over the wet table as a distraction from her all-too-knowing stare. “Why are you doing this?”

“It's impossible to do the job you sent us to do efficiently without it being clean. Sterile is too much to hope for,” she said, tartly. Retrieving the brush, she dipped it into the bucket at her feet, and swished it until soapy bubbles foamed, then flicked the residue from the bristles, which splattered his coat and boots. He narrowed his eyes when she stifled a laugh. “Sorry,” she murmured, insincere, and kept her head down to avoid his gaze.

There were times, Guide reflected, that her youth got in the way. Not ungentle, he took her arm, and drew her up so she faced him. “Walk with me,” he said, and placed her hand on his arm. “Come.”

“What for?” At a glance, Sprint took the proffered brush and started work, studiously ignoring them. “I've got too much to do.”

“It can wait.” The edge in her tone gave him pause, and he considered his reply as he drew her along. “Do you not think that the inhabitants will be more inclined to take orders and obey if you are seen with me?”

“Hmm… I also think they might see me as a legitimate threat to any position they hold.”

“True,” he agreed, and though she stiffened slightly, she did not fall out of step, but held her head high.

“So what’s this, Guide?” The words were quiet, whispered almost. “A parade to underline your absolute power?”

A shark’s grin flashed across his face. “Not I, my dear,” he murmured back, enjoying the banter, which happened far too rarely for his liking. “Alabaster has absolute rule… I am merely her Commander.” Displacement would occur all too soon, and corroded, sharp as acid, but such was the way of things. “My… patronage will afford you some temporary protection while we are here.” A snort followed his pronouncement, and he allowed the grin to widen a little, chuckling. “At least long enough for you to complete the task.”

“Patronage?”

With a flourish, Guide indicated the studied disinterest of the villagers as they strolled through the line of huts and small buildings. “Make no mistake, Jennifer, this serves an important purpose, and gives you status.”

She glanced up at him, brown eyes searching. “Status is about as much use to me as a hole in the head.”

“What an odd statement,” he said, and tilted his head, curious.

“Which?” she asked, and kicked at a pebble so it rolled out of their way into dancing grassy tufts, and saffron-edged, crystal flowers lining the edge of the path. “Status or the hole in the head?”

“Either,” he said, and swung her through a group of bowing, gawking Worshippers. Heads ducked down to hide greedy jealousy, but it lingered, thick as smoke on the wind. Yes, there were those who would take a chance to exploit Jennifer’s position if they could. “But,” he added, because she’d lifted a slim brow, “I would guess it is a figure of speech to indicate a difficult choice.”

“Hardly difficult, more like impossible,” she corrected, and her hand tightened a little on his arm. “There’s no way to make either of them palatable, Guide.” 

“I understand.”

“Do you?” The retort was challenging, anger flashing on her face. “All this does is single me out, and makes me more noticeable, as well as less likely to be accepted.”

“Even so,” he said, “it is your safety I must see to. If it comes at the loss of social opportunities, then so be it.”

“You're so damn callous.” She bit the words off, and tried to break away, but he held her fast, and fuming she settled into a steady pace at his side. 

“Indeed.” A brittle silence ensued, but Guide decided to break it. “I have empathy, Jennifer.” Her continued refusal to engage pushed him on. “You are correct, my interference does set you apart, and also makes it harder for you to engage with other humans.”

“Admitting this doesn't help me any, Guide.”

“Probably not,” he agreed, and earned a scowl. “But, my dear, they would never accept you in any event. You are too.. different... too outside their limited experience, too tempting to use as a means to an end.”

“What could I possibly do that would harm a single one of them?” Jennifer asked, stung to a response. She dragged him to a halt, and he obliged by facing her. “I'm here to help them, and help you... to change things for the better.”

“Not all would agree it is for the better, nor is the question of whether or not you would cause harm an issue, little one.”

Her gaze flickered away, and Ronon Dex lay between them, as well as good intentions. “I know.”

Between the huts a narrow gap lead out into an open expanse of land with low lying, dark-foliaged shrubbery dotted across it. As they edged through, small, pale-cream creatures spotted them, and scattered in a half-hearted way. Too stupid to be afraid for long, they stopped their scramble and returned to browsing, fly-paper tongues wrapping around spiny stems to allow prehensile lips to suck tiny round leaves into their mouths. Taller flowering plants defined a well-worn track, fluffy seed heads billowing copper down to float by in tufts, a bright array of silver bells opening at intervals on delicate stems. Sun against their backs, they headed to the cliff edge, silent but for the joyous cry of leather-winged beasts swooping in abandon to munch on a myriad insects abuzz in the warm afternoon. 

If he could disabuse her of the notion his company, on this occasion, was anything but a duty, he would, but the firm line of her jaw indicated whatever he said would be misinterpreted. An idyllic setting contradicted by underlying tension, which ruined any hope Guide had of a few enjoyable moments without the pressure of plans, experiment deadlines, politics, or hive matters. So he remained silent, and waited for her to think things through. That she would toy with all they had said came as no surprise. Whatever faults Jennifer Keller might have, the inability to think on a deeper level, or work through what seemed insurmountable, were not among them, and he was confident she would reach an understanding. 

Sea spray hit them with icy droplets as it surged against the rocks, the dangerous waters churning to white foam and darker grey as they stood close to the cliff edge. From so high, Guide could see far out to sea, and the archipelago of land was a distant smudge that curled in a great hook of greens, browns, and deeper reds. The tang of salt and ozone, rotting weed and guano filled him, overlaid by the alien scent of the woman at his side. Their hair tangled, white and blonde wild in the wind when he bent his head to speak, but the words were whisked away, and she smiled, the expression sheer joy. 

“It is beautiful, is it not?” he said, and she nodded, blinked back tears from a sudden gust that caught at them both.

“Oh look,” she said, and let go of his arm to drop to her knees so she could peer over the chalky rim of the cliff. She glanced up at him. “Did you see that?”

Intrigued, and a little amused, Guide shook his head. “I fear I did not, Jennifer. My mind was on other matters.” He glanced over the edge at where she indicated. “What did you see?”

Annoyance crept across her face. “Don’t patronise me.”

Today, so eager to take offence where none was intended. He pondered more on the earlier scenario with Sprint, but knew that to point out he had not meant to patronise would aggravate the issue, as well as open a dispute they often had and, travel to that particular conflict did not happen to be on his agenda right now. What he wanted was a chance to enjoy a few simple moments before duty pressed him back to his accustomed role. Guide huffed, certain whatever he did now would result in a further claim of condescension. Going to his knees, he joined her and peered over. 

“What did you see?” he repeated, keeping his voice neutral, and inched forward.

There was a moment when he thought she would not answer, but then she sat back on her haunches. “I'm sorry,” she said. The appeal was earnest. “That was uncalled for and... childish.” 

Guide sat back, resting an elbow on his knee, and studied her, willing to make a concession. “If I seemed to patronise, it was not intentional, my dear.”

“I know.” Her eyes closed for a second, and when they opened they were anxious. “It's just... just that... sometimes I... forget just how different we are, and how... old you are. I must seem such a kid...”

Gravely, he nodded. The aeons he had lived made her ephemeral as the seasons, as insubstantial as ice on a rain puddle, and they marked a chasm so wide he did not understand how she had come to mean so much in so short a time. Human, completely, a child of the Milky Way and Earth, and Sol. How could they yet be friends, or provide the companionship they both craved? For all his years, Guide did not understand the emotions he felt for Jennifer Keller, and they confused, delighted, and revolted him. She was human. Kine. Of no use to him other than food, but he could in no way devour her. Indeed, he would fight to protect her, a circumstance Guide found most telling. And she? Did Jennifer Keller find in him such a conundrum?

“It is difficult for us both,” he said, and held back from more. What else could there be to add?

Blades of sparse blueish grass twisted through Jennifer's fingers, and she piled them neatly to the side with exaggerated care, colour leeching into her skin from the broken foliage. A faint tinge of pink told him of her embarrassment, and he traced the line of her neck to the hollow at her throat where he could see her pulse, then progressed to the soft swell of her breasts. An urge to say exactly how he saw her sat on his tongue, unwelcome, and he growled, impatient with himself for such lunacy. Guide's breath hitched when she glanced up at him, her eyes soft, dark.

“I... ” Jennifer caught herself again, as if she too had no idea what to say. The blush deepened. “It's not that you're old -”

“I am.” He laughed softly, and reached across the distance to push the hair from her forehead with a fingertip. “Ancient.” Did he miss something in her obvious discomfort? What line had been crossed he did not understand?

“Not to me,” she whispered, and glanced away, unwilling to look at him.

The deep sorrow in his soul burst, flowered into something new, and whole, and fresh, the light of a million suns radiating their warmth, but it was not the time, Guide knew, for this conversation. Carefully, he took her hand, and turned it, his thumb moving across her palm, before he placed it on his chest.

“Any more than you are a child to me, little one,” he said, softly, unable to quite stop the note of tenderness. “What did you see?”

Jennifer seized on the question, and withdrew her hand, turning to look over the cliff again. Pointing, she said, “There.”

Against the swell, and the light of sun on water and foam, Guide peered at where she had indicated, unable to see much at first. And then, a silvery shape crested above the waves, dorsal fins stretched like a fan as the creature leapt, and fell to the water, its tail flukes slapping the surface. And then again, out of sheer exhilaration, it danced, another joining in, and then another, until the glow burned bright on their skin, molten gold. They watched the show for several more minutes, until the animals dived beneath the waves.

“We should go back,” she said, taking her hand from her forehead where it had been shading her eyes. There was a hesitation, a moment that Guide thought she would say more. “We have work to do.”

“Perhaps -” he began, and rose to his feet, offered a hand to help her up - “we could walk a little further?”

“I would like that,” she murmured, but the smile on her lips faltered. “Except I don't think we'll be able to.”

A frown flickered across his face, and then Guide realised she had seen something, a dark figure making its way towards them fast, white hair billowing. Drawing to his full height, he gave a rumble of displeasure. What now? As the figure came closer, Guide could see it was the Hive Master, definitely agitated, and as that one did not often act as messenger, he began to head towards him, leaving Jennifer behind. She followed, radiating concern.

 _~Report, ~_ he snapped as they got within earshot, and Bonewhite's mind churned, imagery flashing across in a jumble of meaningless scenes. Guide's hand shot out and gripped his wrist, pulled in closer, skin on skin. _~What has happened?~_ An image of Darling came to him then, and he let go.

_~The boy is missing.~_


	6. Chapter 6

_~How has this happened?~_ Guide demanded, mind tone a steel blade.

Overtones of alarm and embarrassment struck Bonewhite from the Lantean, and he cast a curious glance her way before addressing Guide. _~He hid on a transport to the surface.~_

_~You know this for certain?~_

_~We do, my Lord. The child left his Lantean gift in the hold.~_

_~How long ago did this happen?~_

_~We do not know. It is possible there could be a number of hours to account for, Commander, as the ship has already had its hold emptied twice.~_ Bonewhite strode side by side with the Commander, uncomfortable with the admission.

 _~And yet the toy was not found until recently?~_ Harnessed rage swept across the fringes of Bonewhite's mind. Already flinty, Guide’s face set further, green-gold eyes ablaze. _~How remiss...~_

He swallowed his pride, and offered an apology. ~I erred.~ 

Ahead, thin as wire, the village stretched along chalk downs, sullen, bustle missing from its narrow corridors. The Village Lady stood at the entrance, waiting on them to arrive. As soon as the news had became known, she rushed to offer assistance, and explained to the Hive Master she would personally lead search parties if he so wished. Bonewhite's lip curled with distaste. Kine. If he had pushed the matter she would have prostrated herself, eager as a whore. Such an offer had no value; it was expected.

_~What else, Hive Master?~_

The question dragged Bonewhite back to the moment. _~We are not certain where he might have disembarked.~_

The Commander's steps faltered, and he swung to face Bonewhite, teeth bared in a snarl. The Lantean halted beside him, breathless, and studied them both. _~Explain.~_ Keller laid her hand on Guide's forearm, her gaze searching, and he spared her a quick glance, but otherwise ignored her. _~Where do you believe he might be?~_

He gave a hiss, but answered at Guide's glare. _~The ship collected essential minerals from Chi'mar to progress work on the engines.~_ Leaning in, he added, _~As you know, the hive lattice and substructure requires further reinforcement.~_

Above them, the twin planet beckoned, a radiant sliver in a blue, blue sky. Guide growled. _~ It would be better if the boy is not there, Hive Master.~_

The bow Bonewhite gave spoke eloquently of inner turmoil, palms spread politely. _~Indeed, my Lord.~_ Telling Guide they had despatched a ship to Chi'mar made no sense, as that one already knew. _~In all likelihood he is here, but there is another hypothesis.~_

 _~Our new allies,~_ Guide said, grim, and still his teeth were bared.

_~Very possible.~_

“What's happened?” At the unexpected interruption Bonewhite flicked a glance at Keller; her fingers had tightened on Guide's arm, worry stamped on her face. “Everything went well, didn't it?”

“Well enough but, I fear, that is not the problem,” Guide replied, and met her gaze. “Darling is missing.”

Keller caught a breath, but she recovered quickly. “I see.” 

“We do not know where he is, Doctor,” Bonewhite added; he scanned her, unable to hide the strand of suspicion, and met with outrage.

“You think I might?” she snapped.

“No,” Guide said; he looked askance at her. “Do you?”

“Well...”

“If you have any thoughts on this, Jennifer, tell me now.” Voice hard, Guide wrapped his fingers round her wrist.

Mouth thin, Keller gave a sharp nod. “Well... for whatever my opinion is worth...” Her eyes shot to the village, focused on the figure of its Lady as if to seek courage, and then started again. “Look, Darling is bored, Guide. He needs playmates, and I would guess he came here looking for them.”

Visibly calmer, Guide prompted her to say more. “And...” 

“Wouldn't it be a good idea to check and see if any kids... children are missing from the village, as well?” She looked back and forth between both Wraith. “After all, he's used to human playmates and friends. Why wouldn't he think he could make some here?”

Guide considered the statement, and made a concession, patting her hand as he did so. “A valid point, my dear,” Cocking his head at Bonewhite as they closed the gap to the village, he asked, “Have you done this, Hive Master?” 

Once more, an error of judgement became all too clear, and moreover the Lantean earned the Commander's approbation. “We have not.” 

“Maybe I can help with that?” Keller offered. “Find out if there are any places the local youngsters like to hang out, and -” 

“No,” Guide said, unshakable, and halted before the Village Lady. Beside Bonewhite, Keller seethed with outrage, and would have been more than happy to pursue the denial, except the Commander stamped out an outburst with a sub-vocal _'we will talk about this later'_. He added, “Take the Doctor back to her assistant, and rejoin me as soon as you are able. Pass along my instructions.”

“Guide, I could -”

“No. This is not a time for discussion. You will go with the Hive Master, and stay with the cleverman. The experiments must proceed as we discussed.” 

Both stared at each other, unwilling to give ground, but in the end Keller acceded with an emphatic growl of disgust. Sent packing, she had no option but to fall in beside Bonewhite, and an uncomfortable silence engulfed them, one neither wanted to breach. They wound their way through the huts back to the makeshift laboratory, where cleaning was still under way. Okamy worked alongside Sprint, sweeping the floor, chasing out the local variety of snub-nosed rodents. Several nests stood against the wall, clear evidence of much work having taken place, soft fur peeking through the untidy balls, a white cotton wool bedding from which muffled squeaks emanated. Already turning, Sprint straightened, and acknowledged them.

“Woman,” Bonewhite snapped, which drew Okamy's attention so quickly she stumbled into a clumsy bow. “Leave us.”

“My Lord,” she mumbled, eyes on the ground, and squeezed past him through the narrow gap he had left for her. She cast a surreptitious glance at Keller on the way out, then scurried off down the footpath, cleaning rags and bucket sloshing dirty water.

Shouldering past the Hive Master, Keller's mouth pursed while she scanned the room and, arms folded, she started on the table to check their handiwork. Several pieces of equipment sat in readiness for them to start, gleaming, a mixture of stainless steel, and organics. Lightened through all the effort gone into cleaning it, the wooden surface appeared bleached, and she ran an exploratory finger over it before she gave Sprint a slight nod of approval.

“Acceptable,” she said, checking over the instruments with thorough attention. 

“Doctor.” At first, Bonewhite thought she would ignore him, but after a slight hesitation, Keller turned to face him, head tilted to one side.

“Yes, Hive Master, how can I help you?”

Oh, the tone was polite enough, but beneath the outer veneer of patient inquiry, her emotions burned, molten magma beneath a rigid surface, cracks appearing wherever he placed his words. Idly, Bonewhite wondered how she could bear so much fury within so tiny a frame, and what it would take to tip her equilibrium?

“You will remain here, and continue with your research until guards are sent to take you back to the hive. Your transport should arrive shortly and, after we've located Darling, you will return to complete the tests.”

“That's all?” Deceptively sweet, she reached for her backpack; Bonewhite's hackles lifted straight away. “Are you certain there's nothing else I can do?”

He eyed her, on guard. “This is what the Commander has bidden.”

A sharp nod acknowledged him, and she turned away, busy with packets retrieved from the depths of her bag. “Understood.”

Attention fixed on some other task, the cleverman moved about in the shadows, his back stiff and mental tone non-committal. Still, Bonewhite could tell, from the distinct flavour, that one was troubled, and uneasy, with the current state of affairs. A vacillating sense of loyalty, swiftly suppressed, took the Hive Master by surprise, and he observed the youngster more closely. Had the Lantean worked her charm on this one also, so even he doubted the rightful place of Wraith in Pegasus? Or could there be something deeper and less palatable at work here? Could this youth be accountable for the disappearance of Alabaster's son? Bonewhite was of a mind to investigate more deeply, but he also recollected Ember had suggested him to Guide in glowing terms.

 _~Cleverman,~_ he hissed, and the boy gave an involuntary jolt before turning; he waited, the gloom limning his eyes with blue fire. _~You are tasked with ensuring the Doctor returns to the hive safely. Do not allow her to deviate from this path.~_

 _~My Lord,~_ Sprint said, and stopped short of delivering a bow. _~I will.~_

 _~Yes,~_ Bonewhite agreed. _~You will.~_ Thoughtful, he appraised Sprint again, then added, ~Report any behaviour you believe suspect back to me. I will deliver it to the Commander.~

A cautious look appeared in Sprint's eyes, the level of unease in his mind unmistakable until he brought it back under control. _~As you will it, Hive Master.~_

 _~Then we understand each other?~_ When the youth nodded agreement, Bonewhite turned his attention back to the human woman. “I will take my leave of you, Doctor, and you will undertake direction from Sprint about these concerns, until such time as you return.” 

“I can't wait,” she replied, sarcastically, and moved as far from him as she could given the dimensions of the hovel.

Entertained, Bonewhite stepped out along the path Okamy had taken, and headed back to the Commander, who had taken several drones to search the margin of the settlement. So far, the avenue of trees leading to the 'gate were less than useful, and they, with a number of Worshippers, had scoured several areas well-known as favourite places to play. The Hive Master moved at a blistering pace, coat tails flurrying as he went, the summons from Guide ever more insistent that he rejoin him. The tall figure of the Commander, directing the search parties, face mask-like and his mind just as rigid, barely recognised him as he came to a halt.

 _~She is safe?~_ Guide asked, as soon as he came within earshot.

_~The Doctor will be taken back to the hive as soon as her transport arrives, my Lord.~_

A huff answered his response, and green-gold eyes slid his way, measured him a little. _~You are quite certain the cleverman is aware of his duty to her, because Jennifer Keller will not necessarily obey my orders.~_

 _~She is human - ~_ Bonewhite began.

_~And Lantean. No Worshipper, no sycophant looking for your approval or regard in order that she might rise up in the hive power structure, Hive Master. Do not underestimate her, or her ability to find trouble.~_

Obstinate, Bonewhite hissed, and said, _~The woman is a liability, Guide. We cannot fully trust her, and should not.~_

_~Is that your final word on the matter?~_

Fingers clenched around his palm, the handmouth gaped a little until he felt the barbs latch to his skin and retreat while he pondered the question. Because he and Guide had a long history, and he owed him honesty, if nothing else, finally, with blunt disregard for the outcome, Bonewhite spat out his thoughts. _~Too much hangs in the balance, and far too much rests on the success of the retrovirus. What if we cannot persuade others to join our Alliance and adhere to the vision you and Alabaster project for our future?~_ He met Guide's gaze with a hard stare. _~Not all will be thankful for the beneficence of humans, or will accept that with the implementation of such a treatment that the balance of the galaxy is forever altered. It is bad enough they... we must acknowledge a common ancestry, let alone we owe our very existence, our continuance, to food... to one who was our enemy not so long ago, or on the shoulders of a single, human, female.~_

 _~True,~_ Guide agreed, and shrugged his heavy shoulders. Bonewhite could sense turmoil under the surface - a constant questioning, the wary acceptance of Lantean aid, and the place Jennifer Keller had in all this. _~We risk much, so we must persuade them, and we must make this a success.~_

_~We risk war, with both humans and others of our kind. Extinction may yet find us, as so many do not have queens.~_

_~Death was a fool.~_

The heat in the statement did not surprise Bonewhite, and a cold rage burned in him for all those who died senselessly in the name of an ill-founded revenge. Waste, and an out-and-out lack of foresight of the fate Wraith would undergo when Death fell, as she had been bound to do. Only time had stood between the victory of Atlantis and her allies, because Bonewhite did not doubt for a moment, even if Guide disagreed, that the weapon of mass destruction would have been deployed if an agreement could not have been reached – despite the loss to humans of comrades. But, in some respects, the peace cobbled together in the aftermath of Death's defeat might yet have more, lasting and beneficial effects than either of them could suspect. However, if a happy future was to come to fruition because of it, it would be a long time in the making, and then only after a great deal of work. Weary, Bonewhite looked to the time when there might be equality, but could see only a path strewn with obstacles, each more insurmountable than the those they already tackled. 

Abruptly, Guide changed tack, as tired of the questions as Bonewhite. _~We must find my grandchild, Hive Master, and we must hope he has become lost as Jennifer suggested.~_

_~It could prove difficult if the boy has been kidnapped.~_

Guide coughed out a bitter laugh. _~Oh, I think the situation might well be described as intolerable. I do not wish to kill our new allies, for there are already too few of us.~_

_~As a measure it does leave something to be desired.~_

A sly grin sharpened on Guide's face. _~Indeed. But perhaps it is one all will understand as it leaves so little room for misinterpretation.~_

Amused, Bonewhite allowed the points of his teeth to show, but came back to the job at hand. _~Are other children missing, Commander?~_

_~No. Though I am told some have gone to gather eggs from the cliffs, and they are expected to return shortly.~_

_~Whereabouts on the cliffs?~_

Lifting his offhand, Guide gestured abruptly to a man who bowed and scraped his way towards them. As soon as he was in reach the Commander gripped the front of his tunic and dragged him closer. “You will take the Hive Master with you and show him where it is your young gather food.”

“My Lord, it will be my pleasure,” he stammered, and Guide growled, pushing him away. 

Glancing at Bonewhite, he said, _~This one knows the cliffs well, and also the caves. Have a care for the tide is turning and many of them are flooded.~_

 _~A dangerous situation for the boy,~_ Bonewhite agreed, and began to follow the man as he hurried in front.

A dangerous situation indeed. As he walked, Bonewhite cast a look back over his shoulder, and saw Guide stride off in another direction, his hair streaming behind. A jumble of thoughts fermented across the Commander's mind, concern and hope for the future, Darling, his position and, more perturbing, the soft features of Jennifer Keller. Bonewhite wavered, but continued. It could wait.


	7. Chapter 7

Another Worshipper made her way over to Jennifer, and she snapped the tourniquet around the man's upper arm. “Make a fist,” she said, and tightened the band, “then pump it.” While the man complied, she felt along the inside of his elbow to locate the vein. “You'll feel a sharp prick.” A quick, deft insertion of the needle followed, and blood welled up into the tube. She offered a smile, and handed the vial to Sprint, who took it and decanted it to waiting test tubes. As the man hurried out of the hut with scarcely a backward glance, Jennifer stretched out her back.“Thanks,”

“That's the last of them, Jennifer,” Sprint said, annotating another entry in the tablet.

Glancing over at the cleverman, she muttered , _'Thank God'_ and then continued to disregard him. While uncomfortable with the tense atmosphere, Sprint could ignore it as well as she, and continued with his labelling, stepping to the side when Jennifer pulled out the chair to flop into it, and lean on the table, chin resting on a hand. Huffing a breath, she fiddled with the neat racks of tubes, arranging and rearranging, rotated them so each label faced in exactly the same direction. Sprint took a moment to observe her. Tired, disheartened, the skin around her eyes was stretched tight, smudged dark as ink, and a suspicious brightness sat in those dark orbs, as if the brief disagreement with Guide and Bonewhite ripped at her self-confidence. Between them, the conversation seemed stilted, minimal, enough to keep the task efficient. Their assurance in each other, the growing, mutual, acceptance, sputtered and faltered before his eyes, and they worked so hard to attain even this modicum of understanding. He brooded on it and what the Hive Master asked of him. What should he do?

Not for a single moment did Sprint entertain guilt on Jennifer's part; he had seen her with the boy too many times for that, and the child had a definite fondness for her, and she for him. Guilt gnawed at him, a sinking feeling he might know a bit more about the child's disappearance than he had mentioned. Notably, the brief, wistful conversation Darling had with him about the visit to Meer'cha, when the lad announced he would like to go planet side. Up until the search began in earnest he had not given it more than a moment's thought... but now he reconsidered. Quite adamant, Darling declared he would go even if his mother refused his request to visit both planet and village. At the time, Sprint believed the comment throwaway or the blustering of a child with far too much time on his hands. In retrospect, he believed he should not have dismissed the remark, and paid rather more attention. Perhaps even have brought it to Guide's notice?

So, there in his hands lay an unpleasant decision, and he hovered at the edge of it, miserable. Finally, he turned to the woman, and said, “Jennifer, I need to speak with you.”

A faint crease appeared on her brow, and she swung round on the chair to gaze up at him. “Me? What the hell have you got to say to me?” Anger was palpable in the short distance between them. “You had plenty to say to Bonewhite.” 

Nothing would change that truth. Perhaps he owed it to her to mention the Hive Master's suspicions? Shifting uncomfortably, the young cleverman found he could not meet her eyes, and he glanced away; he would broach the subject another day. Right now this had rather more urgency, and implied a trust he hoped was not misplaced. “It is about the child...” The sound of the chair scraping back brought his attention back to her, and he moistened his lips, a little nervous. “Darling told me he wanted to come here.”

“Dear God...” she breathed, and stared at him in shock, a crease forming between her brows. “Why the hell are you telling me when you should have told Bonewhite?” She made as if to stand, but he stood in her way.

“Hear me out, Fair One, I beg you,” Sprint said, and bared his teeth. “I dismissed the conversation because I had no reason to believe he would attempt such a thing and so... did not recall it.”

Jennifer's frown coalesced into a scowl, and she snorted. “I don't think the Hive Master will accept that excuse particularly well, cleverman.”

“I know.” Agitated, Sprint placed his hands on the table, and studied their backs. “I will be relieved of this post, and sent back to work under Ember... Disgraced.” A thought occurred to him, and he swallowed his pride, wondered how he dare ask such a favour. “Perhaps you could speak with Guide?”

From the corner of his eye, Sprint saw fury replace sympathy, but she remained tight lipped. They both did, and Sprint dwelt on both errors, wondering how he could put everything to rights? There were no real options, and he would have to come clean, go to Guide and admit he knew something. The thought made his guts roil, snakes slithering over and over, releasing their poison, his skin developing a thin sheen of sweat. If he was lucky, he might get away with dishonour, as long as Darling was safe and well... the alternative being an equally inglorious end under Alabaster's palm, or Guide's.

“Then we'll find him.”

The soft statement astounded him, and he stared at Jennifer in amazement. “What? We?”

“Sure,” she said, a determined, gritty look in her eyes, and Sprint wondered if he should just accept the consequences of his mistake as the lesser of two evils? “Why not?” 

Sprint narrowed his eyes, and shifted his feet again. Finally, despite the warning klaxon, he asked, “What did you have in mind?” A tiny shrug of the shoulders gave him hope she wouldn't suggest anything more reckless. Wrong.

“Steal a dart, and we go to wherever you think Darling is?” Eyeing him, she added, “Can you fly a dart?” Grabbed by the wrist, he gave no resistance when she yanked him down to her level. “Be honest, where do you think he is?” 

“This is a really terrible idea, Jennifer,” he hissed, but did not attempt to free himself.

“What else you gonna do? Wait for Bonewhite to tear you a new one?” The expression went over Sprint's head, but he got the gist of the idea from the granite in the gaze directed at him, and the ferocity of tone. “Besides,” she added, gruff, “I don't want to train another cleverman. I've just got used to you.”

“The queen will kill us both if we fail,” he protested, but it sounded weak even to his ears.

“Not me -” Jennifer said, more cheerful than he had seen her for hours - “I'm important to Guide and Atlantis.” When he growled, she gave him a shake. “And we're not going to fail, so tell me where you think the kid could be.”

The young cleverman wavered, caught neatly between a rock and a very hard place. This idiocy would either work, or it would not... if they could pull this off there might be honour in it? “Not here,” he said, and met her eyes with a hard stare of his own, while a nugget of hope danced through snake coils and kicked at them hard. “The transport has arrived.”

“Then we'd better pack,” she said, and let go of him, getting to her feet to begin clearing away. “It wouldn't do if we weren't ready, would it?”

“Indeed,” he agreed, and wondered exactly what he had set in motion.

~xxXXxx~

Disturbed by the news, Sprint hurried back to the laboratory and Jennifer, endeavouring to attract as little attention as possible. Alabaster had gone to Chi'Mar to search for Darling, accompanied by a few blades, a contingent of drones and their handler. The transport was already winging its way across the divide. Plus, in spite of every argument about her safety he could muster, Guide had not dissuaded her, and turbulence followed in her wake. Much to the Commander's open displeasure, he was left to oversee the hive, and the movements of their new allies. Sprint fled the bridge as soon as possible on the tsunami tailing Alabaster's decision, Guide's orders for him carved in stone.

 _~Be quick, cleverman,~_ a voice mocked, a young blade who fancied himself a suitor to Alabaster, _~your queen awaits you.~_

Today of all days, when he most needed invisibility, luck deserted him and he ran into Bluewater; Sprint knew this one all too well. Their rivalry began in the crèche, and continued long past it, this one having been rescued from their dying hive at the same time as Sprint. Knowing he should not waste time on such an obvious affront, Sprint still came to a halt, and faced his tormentor. _~She may be human, but you should never doubt the Fair One is a queen.~_

The one called Bluewater eased his broad shoulders off the wall and sneered. Silver hair framed his handsome face, clasped back in a long braid with intricate strands of metal woven through it, and striking green eyes burned with malicious glee. Leather armour gleamed as he stepped into the light. _~But still Kine, none the less.~_

Any number of responses burned their way onto Sprint's tongue, but he held them back, because he was, after all, only a cleverman and, despite the other's despicable manners, Bluewater outranked him. At such times, Sprint detested his rank and its lack of command. _~ Alabaster, and Guide hold her in the highest regard.~_ Falling back on the truth and intelligence, he tipped his head in polite enquiry, and asked, _~ Are you not needed to assist our queen in her search, as I am required to look to my own obligations?~_

The blade stiffened, fully aware Sprint insulted him, despite the tone, and flavour of his mind, which radiated nothing but a quiet interest, and the pressing need to undertake his duties. For a split second, Sprint felt certain Bluewater would offer a justification, to him no less, as to why he remained behind, given his ambitions towards Alabaster, but he growled instead. The cleverman also knew he would have to take care around the blade in the future, as that one would not forget a slight. Bowing, Sprint spread his hands, palm up, and waited.

 _~Be on your way,~_ Bluewater snarled, _~and ensure you keep your... obligation in her place. There is important work to attend to.~_ With that, he spun on his heel and marched in the opposite direction, away from the laboratory.

Sprint let out a breath, unaware he had been holding it, and resumed marching to his destination. On arrival, he careened through the doors and towards the surprised Jennifer at break neck speed. Alarm crossed her face, so he slowed down, and grabbed a breath. “We need to go soon,” he said, and glanced back at the door. “Before they come back.”

“Slow down.” She waved him to a chair. “What's happened?”

Refusing the seat, Sprint hovered. “There are fewer aboard now the queen has gone to Chi'Mar, so it would behove us to go now.”

“What about the dart?” she asked. “Won't they be monitoring the bay from the bridge?”

“Probably,” he admitted. Thinking on the problem, he said, “I should be able to dismantle the sensors temporarily. At least long enough to allow us to make our way to Meer'Cha.”

A slim brow lifted, and she grinned, an expression Sprint found unnerving. “I had no idea you were so talented.”

Somehow, Sprint knew that was no compliment, and he leaned forward. “It is a basic skill. If we succeed I will need to place you in the dart's buffer - both to go and return”

“Okay, those things are cramped, ” she said, and nodded agreement. “Then I'll pack a few items to take and we'll be on our way.”

“What are you going to bring?” Sprint asked, alarmed she would want to carry too much.

“A medical kit, just in case,” she said, and began to throw a few things into a small bag. She glanced over at him. “You never know, it could come in useful.”

“I can heal Darling if he's injured,” Sprint said.

“Sure,” Jennifer said, and tossed her hair back, before slipping the handle over her shoulder. “But he might not be alone, and I could get hurt too.”

“I will not allow that.”

“How are you going to stop it?” 

Unable to provide an answer, Sprint changed the subject. “If you have everything, we should go.”

“Okay, okay,” she muttered and scanned the contents of her bag. “Do you think it's at all possible Darling would've gone to Chi'Mar after all?”

“I do not.” The cleverman shook his head, and they sped off down the corridor, but only after he checked in both directions. Before they got to the dart bay, Sprint wanted to collect a weapon from his quarters. A blaster could come in useful if they found trouble, and while he was more than capable of caring for Jennifer, he did not want her injured or, worse, killed. Truly, there would be no way back from such a disaster. “I believe he wanted friends as you discussed with me, and has looked to find them among the Worshippers.”

“But no kids are missing,” she pointed out, and Sprint grunted. “Well, there weren't.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Things may have changed.”

For the first time, she noticed they weren't heading for the bay, and she grabbed his arm. “Where are we going?”

“My quarters. We need a weapon.”

Jennifer's brows shot up to her hairline. “You have a blaster. Wow.” They rounded a corner onto a transporter, and Sprint toggled the membrane. As they reappeared on his accommodation level, she added, “You're full of surprises today.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Sprint snorted, amused. “Let us hope there are no worse ones than my ability to fly a dart, use a blaster, and tinker with the sensors.” They exchanged a glance. “I am not certain if you could process any more information.”

“Oh my, he's making a joke,” she said, words heavily laced with sarcasm. “Sprint, why don't you concentrate on getting us off the damn hive, and we'll work on your sense of humour together.”

“Quiet,” he hissed and pushed her behind a pillar, slipping into darkness as three clevermen rounded the corner. Ducking his head, Sprint acknowledged the others, and beckoned her out as soon as they disappeared. “We must hurry.”

“Amen to that,” she muttered.

They made haste to the small room Sprint used, and he ushered her in, grateful to shut the hive out. Crossing to his rumpled nest, he threw open a small set of doors to the side of it, and rummaged about inside, pushing a few items of clothing out of the way. It had to be in there somewhere, he knew. Or had he put it in the bathing room? He came back up to his full height to see Jennifer standing at the porthole, one hand against the hull, her gaze fixed on the habitation lights from the opposite side of the ship. This far down, they were closer to the holds, as well as the Worshipper quarters, and Sprint guessed she had never seen a crewman's quarters. Hers were located near Alabaster's and Guide's, the lighting and decoration beautiful, graceful, fit for a visiting dignitary, or queen. Here things were a little more basic.

“That's quite a view,” she said, and spun round to face him.

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, and glanced at the winking blue and white lights. Truly, it was, quite lovely; he had never really noticed before.

“Have you got it?”

It came to him in a flash, and he climbed onto the bed, delved into the alcove just behind, and pulled out the blaster. A quick check assured him the charge was full, and he slipped it into his pocket along with a knife that he secreted into his boot. “You can have it once we get to Meer'Cha.”

“Let's go then.” 

Her eyes were luminous, and she looked as nervous as he felt. Once again, Sprint found himself wondering exactly what he was doing, and how they hoped to get away with such a ludicrous plan. But reasoning with Jennifer about the other option, namely talking to Guide, had resulted in her closing down on him. He recognised the implacable mind set all too well, and shuddered. His words to Bluewater were truer than that one could possibly know, and the Fair One would not shift her stance once her mind was made up, just like any queen. He knew her well enough to understand that if he did not go with her, she would go alone too. 

They walked in silence through the halls, and took the closest transport to the bay. Removing the panel to the doors allowed Sprint access to the sensors and he quickly subverted the routine. The trick was to make it look like a malfunction they could handle on the bridge, so no one would come to check it out. If Guide was in ship-trance, he might detect the subterfuge, but that was a chance they had to take. 

The great doors slid open. Side by side they stared at the opening, and took a step through it, heading for the nearest dart.

~xxXXxx~

From the shadows, Bluewater watched the cleverman and the human depart into the bay, and growled.


	8. Chapter 8

A heavy purple sky cloaked the red landscape in shadow as Alabaster hurried across a flat expanse of sand, crisscrossed by the disappearing clawed prints of a predator that turned tail fast as its feet could take it when the cruiser landed. Dust whirled around her feet, whipped to miniature storms until nothing remained to show the passage of many feet. Beyond the craggy outline of the ruined metropolis, sharp peaks reared, stark as finger bones and black as soot, frosted with snow at their tips, adding to the already deepening twilight.

 _~We will find him, my Lady,~_ the blade at her side dared say, and his golden eyes blazed through the gloom.

 _~He could be anywhere,~_ she said, in censure, but unable to keep the anxiety from her voice. 

The ruined city spread over many hectares, crumbling to red dust, at one with the encroaching desert. A little higher than the remaining structures, the remnant of a central tower jutted, one of the few remaining on this now barren world that had once been a place of commerce and industrial strength. After the Ancients left Pegasus, it had been razed to the ground, and the evidence of great battles stood out even now, stark burns where the heat of weapons turned the sand to glass.

 _~There are not so many hiding places,~_ he hurried to assure her. _~I have been here before, when my hive looked for mineral deposits.~_

Alabaster hissed, even though she knew he meant well, and she sampled his mind, tasted the certainty there, that they would find Darling. _~Wintersong, you cannot know this,~_ she said, and slowed her pace as they came into the outskirts of the once great city. _~A boy would lose himself for days in these ruins.~_ Especially such a one as Darling, who bore too much resemblance to both his father and worse, to Guide. Both were blades beyond the common sort, who had far too much to say for themselves. _~You must recall some of the hidden spots where a child would like to go?~_

A doubtful expression came over his face. _~It is long ago and much has changed, my Queen.~_

Adjusting goggles over her eyes, Alabaster pulled her scarf tight over her mouth and nose, striding forward, ignoring the sting of sand as the wind strengthened. A storm drew in quickly, and the heat of the sun faded fast under a blanket of thunderous clouds, bringing with it the chill of true desert. Although Alabaster knew Darling had many skills, including those taught to him by her human retainers, he was young. What if he had fallen, injured himself...? The thought made her shudder, and she picked up her pace. 

_~The life sensors -~_

_~Are next to useless, despite what the cleverman does.~_ Wintersong sounded apologetic, even through the material across his mouth. _~The electromagnetic field interferes with its readings and they cannot be relied upon.~_

Without the instruments it was down to an old fashioned manhunt, a task that could take days. So many possibilities lay before them, Alabaster almost despaired. Surely they were too few to cover the ground they needed? _~We will split up and explore the first two quarters before nightfall.~_

Wintersong nodded agreement, and waved on the Handler, who took his drones off to the far left, heading into the most promising section of the city. Survey maps from previous visits showed many treacherous pits where once an underground complex linked the different areas of the city. Many of the tunnels had collapsed thousands of years ago, leaving perfect lairs for whatever predator decided to take up residence. Pockets of surviving humans occasionally roamed through the area in search of metal for their weapons, but they had long since dispersed to the more temperate regions of Chi'Mar, scrubbing out a pitiful existence after nuclear war ravaged their society. Harsh land, and those few prey animals left for them to battle over with better predators, guaranteed their lives were short, brutish, and fraught with danger. Not once could Alabaster recall if they had ever been culled, nor would they ever. The herd declined from residual radiation sickness, and too many birth defects made it a non-viable proposition.

A slim figure raced towards her, silver hair coming free from his long ponytail, a grim expression fixed on his fine-featured face. _~My Lady,~_ he breathed, and caught her offhand with his own, bowed and kissed her fingertips. Rising, he gestured at the citadel, at the ring of glowing lights outlining the camp established on their initial visit. _~Adjustment of the bio-filter is complete, but the algorithms I have tuned for the instruments to work are, at best, a transient measure; they were after all designed for other purposes.~_

 _~I'm certain whatever you've accomplished will help, Ember,~_ Alabaster said, and for the first time allowed herself a wan smile. 

He tipped his head as they continued on their way. _~I cannot be confident.~_ Sighing, he said, _~If Quicksilver were here, I could be sure this... workaround would work.~_

 _~Yes,~_ Alabaster agreed. _~But he is deployed elsewhere, and Dr. McKay would not so readily come to stay on a hive again so soon after his recent... liberation.~_

 _~Or indeed - ~_ Ember continued, acknowledging her comment with a brief nod, and referring to his human brother - _~ if Dr. Zelenka could have helped. His skill would have benefited us, too. A fine and skilled cleverman.~_

 _~Indeed,~_ she said, recalling the human scientist, and pulled back the scarf that kept the sand from her nose and mouth, as soon as the doors were sealed behind them. Tossing it onto a chair, Alabaster made her way across to one of several pedestals, running her fingers across its screen, and flicked through the data that spilled down in a wave. 

_~As you can see,~_ Ember said, and stood beside her shoulder to shoulder, _~what I have done is little more than a patch, which may well cease to operate shortly.~_ A spark from one of the cables set at the base of the terminal drew his attention, and he hissed. _~I must continue to augment the hardware, my Queen. Too much energy will overload the main drive, and render it useless.~_

 _~Do what you must.~_ Ember inclined his head, and Alabaster concentrated on Wintersong, whose yellow eyes fastened on her keenly. _~Bonewhite has given you instruction, my blade?~_

_~He has, madam.~_

_~Then take your men, and I will direct you.~_ To stay at the camp was the single concession she allowed, one she baulked at, but still, Guide's insistence rang in her ears, and until she took a Consort of her own, she would take his advice. 

Alabaster eyed the tall, broad figure of Wintersong while he gave his search party their orders, and set out into that ever more dangerous electrical storm. They could not fail. They simply could not.

~xxXXxx~

 _~What do you mean?~_ Guide rounded on the stiff figure standing before him, head bowed and palms spread. ~A dart is missing from the bay, and you have only just found out?~

_~Two, my Lord.~_

To give the man his due, he did not so much as flinch when Guide stalked closer and placed his mouth in proximity to his ear. _~Two?~_

 _~It is a very clever redirection,~_ that one said, lifting his head to meet the angry glare directed at him. _~A worthy piece of programming that allowed for false readings, which misinformed the hive regarding any launch.~_

A soft growl left Guide's throat, and he huffed, caught on the horns of yet another dilemma, as this could implicate their allies. _~I gather you know who took them, and where they went?~_

 _~I recognised the method, Commander. There is only one who would disable a circuit in such a manner. As to their destination, we are still attempting to match the flight path and trajectory.~_

_~Ah, a signature? And to whom might we allocate blame?~_ Guide asked, and paced, strides taking him across the bridge and back in a few seconds. 

_~Sprint.~_

Guide faltered, and spun on his heel. _~Sprint?~_ When the cleverman nodded, Guide bared his teeth. Holding on to his temper, he said, _~And the pilot of the other dart?~_

_~We do not know.~_

Hissing, Guide waved a dismissal, which the other obeyed with alacrity, disappearing fast into the depths of the hive, and he set out along the corridors. No doubt Jennifer and the youth had taken it upon themselves to head back to Meer'Cha in search of Darling, in spite of his orders. Had he not warned Bonewhite she would disobey, and now the stubborn female had placed herself at risk? A sudden fear ate at his bowels. If she got hurt, injured in any way... At the transporter Guide punched in the code for the laboratory level, exiting on arrival at full speed, black leather skirts flowing. But as soon as the doors to the laboratory slid open, Guide knew he was far too late. The empty room stood as mute witness to reality, with everything in meticulous order, and equally neat piles, the banks of machinery humming, but bereft of personnel. Guide clenched his hands, and stepped over the threshold.

A cupboard beneath the main bench stored a few of Jennifer's personal items – the few she kept at hand instead of in her quarters – and whatever was missing would give him a very good idea what her intentions might be. A quick search revealed medical supplies, and some of the dried foodstuffs she had brought with her from Atlantis, were gone, which could only mean she expected to stay out at least for some few hours. Sincerely, given the state of current internal politics, Guide hoped they would be found sooner than that. Every passing hour caused deeper issues. Uncomfortable with the notion, Guide tried exorcising it with reason. Once Jennifer's fury died to an acceptable level, her clear-headedness would reassert. Then she would realise how she had placed a delicate situation in jeopardy, and would act accordingly. Some of the blame lay with him, he realised, and if he had spoken with her as proposed, this unthinking response could have been avoided. 

_~Fair One,~_ he muttered, and leaned over the bench, searching for a hint, anything to help find her. _~Where have you gone?~_

That Sprint went with her afforded him a certain amount of relief, but how had she managed to persuade the cleverman to go along with such a wild plan? For the first time, Guide wondered how much was missing from the story and if, perhaps, the boy knew something about Darling's disappearance. Beginning a more careful search, he flicked through the pile of papers sitting beside her microscope. When nothing showed up, Guide turned his attention to the small table she used for meals, or took a rest from her work. The electronic device she called a Kindle lay there, and he picked it up, opening the cover. Sitting on the screen, was the dried remnants of a small flower. Closing his fingers around it, Guide slid the bloom into his vest pocket.

Two darts were missing. What did that mean? Another had set out with them, or after them? Crossing to a terminal, Guide toggled for the crew complement, and the hive's roster of personnel. A few remained to service Bright Venture, and also to man the darts should there be any sign of treachery from their recent allies, though Guide dismissed the notion almost immediately. The Commander of the Nova Blast had shown far too much deference to Alabaster and Waterlight for that option, and his hive was damaged from a recent run in over hunting grounds. No, Burn, and his crew, wanted what Alabaster offered, as well as a chance to become one of her lovers.

So if the Nova Blast could be safely disregarded, and Guide had no reason to doubt Alabaster, as after all, she was as much Snow's daughter as his, then that avenue was closed. A talon ran down the list of names appearing on the screen, and he rapidly dismissed most of them. Ever since Ease's betrayal, he exercised greater caution than ever when selecting a man for the council, and none of these would dare commit such treachery. A name he did not recognise sprang out at him, Bluewater, and linked to Sprint no less. He tapped the screen, thoughtful. Would this be the mystery pilot, he wondered? If so, why would a blade follow Sprint and Jennifer yet not come to advise the Hive Master or his Commander of what they had done? 

_~Commander, we have the trajectory the pilots took.~_

Pleased, Guide patched into the communications array. _~Excellent work, cleverman,~_ he approved. _~Send the data directly to my dart.~_

_~As you wish, sir.~_

The cleverman signed off in a crackle of static, and Guide headed out the door. Now it seemed he had no choice.

~xxXXxx~

A summer squall flattened Sprint's hair against his head, and he narrowed his eyes against water as it ran down his face, and the collar of his coat. Cold rain, mixed with hail, beat at them relentlessly, the wind whipped to a fury, and lashed at them from every angle. Grabbing the Fair One by the arm, Sprint half ran, half dragged her under the shelter offered by a stand of scraggy trees, narrowly avoiding the thrashing branches. Shuddering with cold, the woman clasped her arms around her chest, thin clothes soaked to the skin, the rain running off her face in rivulets, breath a mist.

Unfastening his coat, Sprint draped it around her shoulders and she gave him a thin, grateful smile, as he pulled her closer into his body. The rain beat at him, soaking his thin under-shirt in moments, but just as suddenly, the wind dropped and the clouds parted. Sun blazed off every wet surface, heat shimmering, and steam rising from his body. Even the ocean appeared calmer, the waves less ferocious than before, even though it roared as the tide came in, rushing through the craggy rocks at the mouth of the small bay. 

Lifting her wet face, Jennifer blinked away raindrops from her eyelashes, and pulled the coat tighter round her. “Damn, that was sudden.” A blush tinted her cheeks, as she looked up into his eyes. “Ah... thanks for the coat.”

As uncomfortable as Jennifer, Sprint released her, walking into the sunshine so he could bask like a lizard, and slot into place the odd, protective surge that prompted such a response. Stretching out his arms, he turned his face to the glowing orb, relishing the sensation of it on his skin, wondering quite what he felt about the Fair One. How did a human become so important? He could feel her gaze on him, discomforting, and he turned back to face her.

“It was no more than any cleverman would do for a queen,” he said, understanding.

“Oh...” Surprise, and something more crept across the Fair One's face. Recovering quickly, she nodded, but glanced away, as if she had no idea how to handle the revelation. “I'm... honoured.” 

“You should not be,” he said, and walked away a little.

“Sprint...”

At his name he turned back to face her, and cocked his head. The sense of responsibility remained, and that other less definable emotion surfaced, a mix of duty, even obedience. “Yes, Jennifer?”

Swamped by his coat, she looked a bedraggled figure, but she slid it from her shoulders and placed it over her arms. “I think the sun will dry me out, and it is a bit on the large side.”

“Perhaps,” he said, and took the garment from her, “it would be as well to have some clothing made for you, that is more suitable to such conditions?” Gratitude for her studied indifference to his confusion and embarrassment earned more respect, and he fell silent. 

A tiny laugh issued from her, and she scanned the empty meadow, and the bushes and trees that began to take hold to create a distinct fringe. “You say there are caves down there?” 

A finger pointed out towards the spit of land that narrowed to a sandbar about a kilometre distant from the mainland. Greenery frothed over its seemingly hospitable hills, but the data retrieved the village and the local scouts indicated there were potholes, which the children were banned from exploring. Deep, often with channels cut through the soft rock, seawater filled many of them at high tide, rendering them too dangerous, even for experienced climbers. The local birds, and prey animals took advantage of this, and the richest pickings were there if anybody was foolhardy enough to try. 

“Several.”

“You really think Darling would have gone there?”

Sprint snorted, and began to head out towards the woods. “Of course.” Eyeing her when she gave an exclamation of disbelief, he added, “The boy is an adventurer, and if I miss my mark, which I doubt, then he would want a challenge.”

“But to deliberately choose something so dangerous,” she reasoned, and hopped round a small tussock of grass. 

“He is a blade, and he _is_ of Guide's bone and blood.”

“Yeah,” Jennifer said, and shook her head in dismay. “I think you've got a point, unfortunately.”

“Even though I am relatively new to the Bright Venture, and as cleverman to Alabaster, I can see the Commander is -”

“Manipulative?” she offered, a gleeful light in her eyes.

“Ah, determined to ensure everything goes his way...” Sprint's mouth twitched as he considered the very damning words that rested on his tongue about his observations of Guide, and his modus operandi. 

“All very useful traits,” she said, and they exchanged a glance of complete understanding.

~xxXXxx~

“Shut up, will you, Herul.”

The oldest of Darling's companions edged closer to Herul, and the boy stopped crying. Not that Darling could blame him. It was cold, damp, and dark, and the rocks were slippy, and he felt like weeping too. A small part of him wished he had not taken up the dare to come with Benrit, Herul and Foleen to this dangerous place. Sneaking onto the transport was a big risk on its own, and he knew he would probably be punished for behaving so irresponsibly. Though his mother would be furious, he could cope with that, for she would always forgive him, but the disapproval of Guide weighed on him heavily. His grandfather would not reprimand him, as such, but would withdraw into silence, unspoken between them that such behaviour was not worthy of a Blade of Night.

Checking over Foleen, Darling knew enough about humans from watching his mother to understand the boy was in a bad way. Blood seeped from a cut on the boy's head, and he shivered with the cold, even though all of them had wrapped him in their outer garments. Every now and then, he would nod off to sleep, and Darling had to wake him. He did not like that.

“It's coming in, the tide,” Benrit announced, and turned his face towards Darling. The freckles on his skin stood out starkly, red hair on end, stiff with salt.

Nobody needed to say another word. They could all see the tide mark.


	9. Chapter 9

“My Lord...”

Bonewhite grabbed the overhanging rock, and hauled himself clear of the rim of the cliff. Beneath his feet chalk crumbled, and he hissed, annoyed. “Speak.”

A white face framed by stringy dark hair peered at him over the edge, blue eyes flickering with panic. “Children... Lord... they... are missing.”

From the way the man gasped for breath, Bonewhite guessed he must have raced from the village with the news. Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, he could see the drones and their Handler were a few metres below his position, also coming back up the long treacherous path. Each step was slick with spume, well-worn from the tread of thousands, the soft sandstone and chalk worn to grooves. It would not do to hurry, that simply made them more dangerous. At least he was certain the lower caves were empty; they had had enough time for a thorough search.

“Missing?” He grunted with effort, and came onto the cliff top, loomed over the Worshipper, whose every muscle was rigid with fear. “Were we not assured there were no children missing?”

Scraping a bow, the man stammered, “Not... this... hour gone... Lord... we did not know.”

In the Hive Master's opinion that did not count as an excuse. “Where then?”

A jerk of the chin and a pointed finger indicated the spit of land some kilometres distant, the swathe of greenery beginning to disappear under a bank of mist. Out towards the horizon, the summer weather had taken a turn for the worse, thick clouds hovered, black and grey, menacing and full of rain. Already, driven by the wind, waves churned against needlepoint rocks, the tide sweeping in faster than before. 

Snarling, Bonewhite grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, and yanked him closer until he could smell terror. It filled his nostrils, a thick miasma of sweat and desperation. “Is this some game... some ploy for delay, human?” He stared deep into the Worshipper's eyes, the iris a thin ring of blue around dilated pupils, suspicion already formed. “What do you know about this?”

“Nothing... nothing... I swear, Lord,” he gabbled and, disgusted, Bonewhite dropped him onto his knees where he scrabbled in the dirt. Flinging his arm wide as he rose to stare up at the Hive Master, the Worshipper gestured again at the hook of land. “Not one of the Elders, Lord... we did not think they would be so stupid -”

“Stupid?” His own eyes narrow, Bonewhite snapped at the human, “What do you mean?”

“It is forbidden.”

Ah, now that made sense, and Bonewhite stepped away from the grovelling Worshipper to peer ahead. Placing a temptation like that in the path of children would result in disaster. While still in the crèche he had, with a number of his brothers, been keen to take on more than a few chancy escapades, ventures - he could only give thanks to the First Mothers - that had not required either rescue or interference from adults. More by accident than design, though, he was as much as he would admit. Attention back on the human, he asked, “Why?”

The man gave a shrug, as if he stated the obvious. “Too dangerous, Lord. Sinkholes and potholes abound... they lead out to sea, and underground rivers connect into them. Before the Elders decreed a ban, many were lost to the waters and deep caverns.”

Bonewhite bared his teeth. Given the length of time they all wasted searching pointlessly - too far away to be of any use - it also meant the window of opportunity shrank, along with the possibility of recovery. Even with a fourteen hour tidal cycle, they would be cutting it very fine indeed. Not to mention the overwhelming delight of searching yet more dank sea caves, and potholes. Darling had to be with the human brats, it was the only possible answer to his disappearance. Both anxiety and irritation dissipated in a mounting sense of urgency, and Bonewhite set off back towards the village, skirts of his coat flying at his ankles, the only positive that the cliffs were but a short distance from the village despite their number. 

Stumbling behind, the Worshipper panted as he tried to keep pace with the Hive Master's long stride, puffing out words. “Ropes... need torches... my Lord, the fog...”

“Silence,” he snapped and cocked his head. Not only were the villagers in turmoil but something else was amiss, and Bonewhite could not squelch his alarm. That perpetual thorn in his side, the Lantean Doctor, and her escort, had taken it upon themselves to mount their own version of a rescue mission. Right now, Bonewhite could not believe the retrovirus was worth the effort they expended, particularly as they had to fruit feed the Lantean at every point. Worse still, Guide followed, leaving Bright Venture vulnerable, and without either Queen or Commander. All the careful steps he had taken to bring them to this place, the plans, the adjustments flashed through his mind, and all would be for nothing if they were seen as weak, or lacking in some small aspect of protocol. “Where is your Lady?” he demanded, and allowed the hapless male to take the lead at last, following in his footsteps. “Be quick.”

“Through here, my Lord, through here...”

A quick gesture indicated a large, reasonably well-appointed homestead set off to the side of the village square, and Bonewhite slipped into its interior with two drones at his heels. All heads in the room snapped round when he entered, white faces following his every movement as they made way to let him pass. At the centre of the room sat a large table, which he headed for, still strewn with remnants of food. 

With a cursory glance, Bonewhite swept his hand across, and the few relics left from the last meal clattered noisily to the ground. Hands flat against its surface, he leaned forward, wasted not a second on preamble. “Maps. You have mapped the region?”

“Indeed, my Lord,” the Head Woman said and snapped her fingers. Two servants scurried into the shadows cascading down the back of the building and, on their return, a large box hung between them. Iron-hinged, and carved inexpertly with characterisations of Iratus, once bright paint splashed across it, and they set it down heavily in front of him. Wrenching open the lid, inside, ink somewhat faded, were a number of yellowing parchments that defiantly curled at the edges despite the weight of a number of flat, heavy stones that rested on them. Grabbing the corner of one, Bonewhite yanked it out, smoothing it across the knotty surface of the table, and pored over the diagrams. Dismayed, he dragged a talon over labyrinthine tunnels that interconnected with a network of caves cut through hectares of soft rock. He glanced up at the hovering woman. 

“Where?”

Turning to the box, she slid the stones to small compartments he had not cared to notice, and took out three more of the fragile sheets. Placed next to the piece the Hive Master already examined, it became obvious they were more detailed and better drawn, dangerous areas picked out in vivid red. A slender forefinger drew a line down one of the steeper inclines, and tapped the illustration at the bottom.

“There,” she said, and met Bonewhite's gaze. “That is where all the boys go when they wish to prove their manhood.”

~xxXXxx~

“Shit.”

At the exclamation and the rattle of falling shingle, Sprint whirled back in time to grab Jennifer just as she slid partway into a deep, and nasty looking hole. Holding onto his arm, she pushed herself up on her heels, smearing mud the length of her legs as she moved back up the slope. The neck of her jacket provided Sprint with enough purchase to haul her up onto solid ground. 

“You must be more careful, Fair One,” he said, unable to keep the note of censure from his voice. 

“Yeah, well -” she growled, and lay on her back, before rolling onto her front and then to her knees - “I don't have the benefit of super vision, do I?” 

Offering his hand, Sprint waited as she eyed it for a moment, then accepted the gesture, and he took her weight as she got to her feet. “It is a nuisance,” he agreed, mildly, and earned a scowl.

“Funny.” Jennifer pushed hair out of her face with a filthy hand. “You got any other smart comments?”

Tempted to say he had, Sprint decided to keep his mouth shut instead; he offered her a little bow. “We do not have a great deal of time before the tide reaches its zenith.”

“This much I know.” A faint crease appeared between her brows as she surveyed the area's dense thickets of intertwined shrubbery, all the more unpleasant under swirling clouds of mist. “Are you sure we haven't been going round in circles?”

Piqued by the suggestion, Sprint bared his teeth before shaking his head. “My sense of direction is excellent.”

“Of course it is,” she said, and met his glare head on. “Did your source happen to mention where the kids were most likely to go?”

“If we've stopped baiting each other,” he remarked, and felt her grin rather than saw it, “then the area which should yield results is less than a kilometre away, due north.”

“Closer to the sea,” she said, and exchanged a glance with him. Shaking her head, she added, “Why is it kids always choose the most dangerous places to explore?”

“Were you never tempted to explore?” The question leapt from his mouth before he could stop it.

“Me?” Surprise shot over Jennifer's face, but she seemed to give the question serious consideration before she gave a little snort of laughter. “No... not really. I was always the sensible one, and besides... well...” Colour bloomed on her cheeks, and she gripped his hand as he helped her up a particularly steep bank. “Well...”

Head cocked, Sprint found, despite himself, he was interested, and more than a little curious to learn more about the Fair One. “Well?” he repeated, and turned to make certain she had heard him. “You were cautious?”

“Too much probably,” she agreed, and followed him through an outcrop of low bushes, beating at spikes that hooked on to her clothes with sticky determination. “But... well... I was... alone a lot.”

This insight into human relations made Sprint think hard about his own childhood experiences, and how the crèche was so integral to Wraith and their sense of being. The very thought of separation shocked him, particularly as a child, and he eyed her with more than a little pity. Every hour of every day, every part of his youth, had been spent with his brothers and, occasionally, a young queen before she was whisked away to learn the skills she needed to rule a hive. A shudder ran through his frame. Being on his own, in that sense, as a child, was unutterably alien, and ran counter to all their similarities.

“I cannot believe humans would allow such a thing,” he remarked, and took up the lead. Leather armour stood a better chance than the Fair One's clothes against thorns. Casting a glance over his shoulder, he said, “You must have felt... lonely.”

A sharp nod followed, but then she shrugged. “You don't miss what you don't have, cleverman.” 

They continued in silence for some distance, saving their breath for the difficult route rather than conversation. Sprint pondered more on the novel idea of a childhood spent in isolation, as he slapped vines and spiked tendrils out of the way, heading to the one narrow path that marked the route the children had probably taken. Steadily, they climbed upwards, the mist intensifying as they went, a decided chill to the air now they were on higher ground. Even a break in the trees did not help, because swirling fog thickened in almost palpable layers, creeping round their ankles with clammy fingers. 

Once they eventually set their feet on the path, it was just a matter of following as it meandered, a lazy brown snake, through thickets and past over-hanging arches of dark green and blueish foliage, weighted by spiked red cones, or small yellow crescents. As they went past, Sprint picked some of the fruit, remembering its taste from childhood, a delicious sweet tartness, one he believed Jennifer would enjoy. Except the thought he would choose to select something for a human to savour troubled him. For a moment, he thought to throw it away, in denial of those social niceties that made him respond the way he did. He held it gingerly, but on impulse offered it to her. 

“I enjoyed these when I was a child,” he said, embarrassed, and felt the weight leave his palm.

“It smells good,” she said, and Sprint saw her slip the fruit into a pocket of her jacket. “I'll save it for later, thanks.”

Confusion settled over him again, and he huffed in response, pushing on past a narrow opening between a leaning bank of crumbling rocks, which burst into a wider, clearer area. Along this stretch of route, soil had eroded away in places, leaving the fauna little to dig their roots into, and gaping holes appeared in the rust-brown stone beneath with more regularity. In some parts thick tap roots were exposed, spreading out along the floor like cables, questing for purchase in the thin covering, bracing the larger trees like buttresses against the high winds that swept across the land from time to time.

A hand on his arm stopped him from moving forward. “Did you hear that?”

Head cocked, Sprint strained to hear anything at first. In the miasma, all sound seemed deadened, muffled, but still... Pausing his racing mind, the cleverman allowed his senses to reach out, flirting with the small things that hid in the bush, the tiny lives that made the whole, skipped past them, looked for something more... And then he heard it too. A small noise. Insignificant. 

“Yes.” He took a few steps away from her, needing to focus his energies into that tiny spot that signified life, and possibilities.

“Is it the kids?” she asked, in hushed tones.

“I do not know,” he murmured, and hunkered down, concentrating on that elusive wisp, brow ridges together in a frown, stamping on impatience. There it was again. Yes. “Through there,” he said, and hurried off, aware Jennifer followed him as best she could. 

The sounds were faint, and he was, frankly, astonished she heard them, which made him wonder if human hearing was better than he had previously thought. But definitely, there was something worth investigating, and holding onto a trunk jutting at right angles, he clambered up to the top of the hillock, swinging past the trees, and came to an abrupt halt. Before him, the earth fell away in a gaping wound, and for a second he teetered on the edge, only his sense of balance preventing him from falling headlong into a pit.

“Careful,” he warned, as Jennifer hauled herself up behind him, and as she wavered, he snatched at her wrist, pulled her hard against him for safety. “It is quite a drop.”

“No shit,” she said, and clung to him as she peered down. “Sprint, you really think they're down there?”

“Listen,” he said, and released her, certain she was safe for now.

At first, nothing. But then, vague as bird cry on the wind, there... the wind sighed through the leaves, rustled them, but even that could not hide the distinct sound of a child's sob. It echoed up from the depths, faint but definite, and Jennifer threw herself to the ground, scuttling forward on her belly to hang slightly over the edge. Excited, she waved at Sprint to join her, but he heard something else. A footstep?

“Darling,” she called. “Darling!”

He must have imagined it. Kneeling, he leaned over too, and searched the dim entrance, trying to see past gloom and mist, which fell into it like soup. Adding his voice, it boomed off the rocks. “Darling!”

“Spr-int... Jennifer...?”

“Oh my god,” she breathed and edged further over. “Darling, Darling... are you all right?”

“We fell...”

“Quite a way,” Sprint grunted as he pushed himself up to his feet. “Too far for them to get back up.” He scanned the surroundings. Nothing popped into view that could be used to help them climb out of the hole. 

“How many of you are there?” Jennifer asked, face pink from hanging upside-down. “Are you hurt?”

“Just one...”

A clamour came up out of the opening, as other voices joined in. “Foleen...” “Yeah... he's in a bad way...” “Please help...” “The tide... I can see it coming up the sides...” “Four of us, Jennifer.”

Taking charge, Jennifer said, “I want to speak to Darling, boys, and just Darling, because otherwise I can't hear you properly. Is that all right?”

“My lady...” The small voice sounded tired, trembled with emotion. They could both hear tears in its tone. “Are we going to die?” 

Jennifer squeezed her eyes shut, and then glanced up at Sprint, who shook his head, and spread his hands in defeat. Even the sides of the hole had very few hand or footholds, smooth apart from a couple of jutting narrow shelves, a few loose tree roots. Looking back into the hole, she growled one word, emphatic. “No.”

Picking herself up from the ground, she loosened the pack from her back, and quested in its depths, beckoned Sprint back to her. A small pile of items grew beside her, and the cleverman crouched to examine them. If he was honest, he had no idea if anything would be of use … Except then she did the unimaginable and pulled out a length of old rope, and grinned at him, pleased.

“Where...?” he wondered, stunned, and watched as she busily tied the bag to one end, after returning some of the medical supplies back into it.

“I took it,” she explained, “from the village.” She gave a shrug, and closed the bag's flap tight, then lay back on her stomach. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. Hold my legs will you?” Startled into complying, Sprint gripped her ankles, and together they lowered the bag into the maw of the pothole, careful not to knock it against the crumbling walls. “There's some supplies in there, Darling, which should help Foleen. I know you know what to do. Sprint and I are going to get more help, okay?”

The sound of crying filtered upwards, as Sprint hauled Jennifer back up the sides, and Darling sounded frightened now. “The water is nearly here... Jennifer, I'm... so... so...”

“Oh sweetie, I know,” she murmured, and coiled the rope, gazed helplessly at Sprint. “Can you get back to the dart?”

Measuring the distance they had travelled, Sprint clenched his hands, and re-examined the pit the boys were trapped in. It would take too long to get to the dart, despite his strength and speed, but he could get down there, perhaps bring each of the children up one by one? It was Jennifer's shriek of terror that alerted him to the rush that took him off balance, to launch him across the mouth of the pit. On the way down, in a gymnastic feat of excellence, he managed to twist and catch hold of one of the thick tree roots that extended some distance down the walls. Using his momentum to swing to the closest outcrop of rocks, he hissed with effort as every muscle strained, and his talons cut into the surface of the fibrous plant material until he could launch to safety. Landing nimbly, he snarled as a face he knew too well peered over the edge, gloating, self satisfied. 

“Well, cleverman...”

“Fool,” Sprint raged, and then realised Bluewater held Jennifer tight in his arms, feeding hand pressed against her chest. “Let. Her. Go.”

“Or what?”

Rage blinded Sprint for a moment, and then sense filtered through the tsunami of an emotion he kept in close control. “The queen's child is down there... we could get them out with your help.”

Sodium-yellow eyes stared at him, and then Bluewater grinned. “Good idea, but not before I feed.”


	10. Chapter 10

_~We need to return, my Queen.~_

In a gesture reminiscent of her father, Alabaster turned and gazed at Ember, cocking her head to the side. _~What has happened?~_

Silver ponytail sweeping over his shoulder as he bent forward, the cleverman offered a bow before answering. _~It seems there are missing children from the village. It is Dr. Keller's conjecture also that Darling may be with them.~_

_~But we cannot be certain?~_

_~No,~_ Ember agreed. ~We cannot. But...~ he trailed off and met her gaze. _~The boy has been lonely, and it does make sense as he had human playmates before whilst you were...~_

Lost. The unspoken word hung between them, and Alabaster nodded. This much was true. She and Darling had relied upon the company of humans, their goodwill, for many years, even learned to relish their company. Since leaving Atlantis, Darling missed Torren hugely, and though he did not complain about his isolation, she knew he felt it keenly. Besides, as theories went, it did have a certain appeal. The undeniable truth was that, so far, the search here yielded nothing except despair.

After persevering through so much, losing Darling was not an option, and the very thought cut to the quick. Alabaster ruthlessly focussed on the belief they would find him well. _~What information have you that makes you believe the validity of such an argument?~_

 _~None,~_ the cleverman admitted, and Alabaster bared teeth in the face of such a stark comment. _~Other than the Lantean shows genuine understanding and affection for the boy, and she is to be trusted in such matters.~_

 _~In this respect particularly, cleverman?~_ The nod Alabaster got in response made her huff with amusement. 

Ember rocked on his heels a little, and qualified his agreement. _~Dr. Keller has compassion, and sees only the child, not his species.~_ Compassion, yes, a quality the Lantean female had in great quantity, and an ability to empathise, even when placed in situations that would surely challenge the hardiest of souls. Though perhaps Jennifer did not always exhibit the wisest of judgement... Alabaster's musing came to an abrupt halt with Ember's next revelation. _~Guide has informed us that Dr. Keller and Sprint have gone to search for the boy.~  
_  
Stunned, Alabaster was at a loss, struck mute. How could the human undertake such a dangerous and reckless escapade, when only her safety stood between the well-being of Wraith and the overweening interest of Earth? If she came to harm, was injured in any way, how would they report it to Atlantis, to John Sheppard, and Mr. Woolsey? Worse, Teyla Emmagan held Jennifer in close friendship, and to earn Steelflower's disapproval, even though Guide's Queen was long gone, would surely serve no good purpose? Alabaster jibbed at the idea, and turned on her heel to pace the length of the shelter. If Guide had had a hand in pushing the woman into a show of bravado, and knowing her father as well as she did, Alabaster could not doubt the supposition...

Furious, she rounded on Ember, who bowed in the face of her anger, his hands spread in submission. Suspicion filled her voice. _~Where is my father?~_

_~He goes in search of the Lantean, and Sprint, my Queen.~_

_~And Bonewhite...?~_

_~He has gathered what drones there are and followed after Guide.~_

_~And who is it that is taking care of our interests with the Nova?~_ she asked, brittle as dry sticks, lashing her anger to a place where it could be more properly dealt with when appropriate. 

Helplessly, Ember murmured, _~Queen Waterlight and Bronze - ~_

 _~A child, and her unproven Pallax?~_ Alabaster could not help herself. Much as Waterlight was Queen in her own right, she was as yet a child, and not fully aware of everything at stake. _~An infant is left to parley with seasoned Commanders, who will take advantage of this situation if they believe our inner council is in discord?~_

_~It is Guide's opinion that Burn will choose to press his suit with you rather than attempt a coup, my Queen.~_

Drawing up very straight, Alabaster's lip curled with scorn. ~Guide has chosen to speak to you of this, rather than me?~

Rattled, Ember dropped into another low bow, radiating anxiety. _~My Queen, I meant no insult.~_

 _~And I have taken none, my cleverman,~_ she purred, and drew closer to him so she might bring him up from his bow. Truth sat in the words, Alabaster had not taken slight from Ember, but she banked another fire for Guide, one she would deal with once this... débâcle reached its conclusion. Time now she took a Consort, and well past time her father stepped into the shadows to behave as a blade should. She graced the distressed cleverman with a thin smile, _~Recall Wintersong, and the search party. I will wait for them on the cruiser.~_

~xxXXxx~

Beneath his claws rock crumbled, and Sprint stared up at the edge of the pit, calculating the possibility he could reach that far. Edging round the narrow shelf, he spotted another small bank of harder rocks jutting from the sandy walls. If he could get there, then the leap up would be no more than three metres, and at least they gave him purchase of a sort from which he could add momentum. Firmly placing all concern for Jennifer into a box, he crouched, muscles tense, and pushed off fast, legs wind-milling as he propelled himself by sheer determination to get to the outcrop. 

Breath whooshed out in a massive grunt as he collided with stone, clinging to a tiny finger hold, shoulder straining with effort as he dangled, a fish on a hook, and pain roared along his hand. Bones and claws crunched together, and Sprint hissed while he made a few torturous adjustments to get a better grip. Lifting his body weight, he clamped down a groan, straining to get a knee into contact with stone, desperation driving him on. Somehow he managed to get there and, relieved, Sprint growled, allowed a few seconds to catch his breath and to reorientate. Then careful as a tightrope walker, he pushed himself up along the wall face, grasping at a solitary root breaking free just above his head. Grateful for any support, Sprint wrapped his feeding hand round the thick stem, and only then spared a glance at his off hand. Every talon had torn free, blood oozing from the nail bed to leave his hand streaked with crusty dark green. It would heal.

 _~Sprint... wha-at's happen-ing?~_

_~Nothing... to... worry... about, Darling...~_ Even the effort to mind-speak the boy fractured much needed concentration for the next leg of his ascent. _~We will get to... you... soon.~_

With the help of the root and a massive lunge, Sprint got both feet on the rocks, and pushed off, upward and forward, so he would land clear of the rim. For a second, mid-flight, he thought he had miscalculated, but he landed half a metre short, and grabbed at a thick clump of grass, agony shooting the length of his damaged hand, managing to catch himself before he started to slide backwards. 

Scrambling to his knees, Sprint took just long enough to leap at Bluewater, bringing both his rival and Jennifer down to the ground. As they fell he heard something snap, and from the scream that echoed round him, he guessed the force of the fall had hurt the Fair One, but he didn't have time to find out because his head was snapped back as a heavy hand wrapped itself in his hair.

 _~You overstep your authority, cleverman,~_ Bluewater roared, his face looming so close spittle sprayed Sprint's cheek.

Twisting, Sprint forced the blade to take a step back over Jennifer's prone body, and he pushed up onto his feet. _~My authority,~_ he hissed, _~comes from Guide, and Alabaster, and the Lantean is charged to my care.~_

Tilting his head, Bluewater bared teeth, and grinned. _~A pity you have failed then.~_

 _~She lives,~_ Sprint affirmed, because although the woman was unconscious as far as he could tell, he thought he heard a faint moan.

 _~At the moment,~_ the blade said, and threw Sprint backwards in an effort to get him back in the sinkhole, but failed miserably as the cleverman coiled in his grasp and freed himself, gritting his teeth against pain that poured molten lead through his nerves when a piece of scalp came away from his skull. He leapt backwards away from Bluewater, ignoring the blood which leached down his neck, thick and hot. _~As do you. But not for long...~_

The blade followed quickly, a slim knife in one hand, and Sprint moved with him, astonished at the vitriol Bluewater expressed, his determination to kill. True, they had no love for each other, but still, they were from the same hive, they were crèche mates, surely that counted for something? And this... wish to destroy Jennifer? What could he hope to gain?

 _~Why?~_ he asked, hoping to buy some time, as well as understanding.

_~The human is nothing, food, a pet... it is abomination she brings to Wraith -~_

_~You always were... a fool,~_ Sprint spat, and ducked as Bluewater brought the dagger towards his throat with a furious slash meant to slit his neck from ear to ear. _~Shortsighted... an idiot...~_

Hissing with fury, Bluewater stepped up the attack and whirled towards the cleverman, knife leading, a sliver of light in the gloom. Throwing up an arm, Sprint blocked the thrust, parried the reach of off hand and grabbed the blade's wrist, slipped under and away. Bluewater lunged, leather skirts flying, blurred as he made a killing stroke, hoping to connect to Sprint's intestines, but missed, leaving only a cut across leather as the cleverman evaded the attack again. Sprint cast about for something he could use as an impromptu weapon, a defensive stance just would not do, and a thick branch caught his eye. Turning, he fled towards it, crashed through the entangled bushes, and grabbed up the heavy thing. As he spun round, he brought it down low, the shock and surprise on Bluewater's face ample repayment for all the times he had been a victim to his malice, sweeping it at the blade's knees to hamstring him. A gratifying crunch indicated success, and quickly, Sprint continued his onslaught, whipping the heavy object round to connect with the side of Bluewater's head. The blade fell like a brick, blood spraying across bark and through the air to cover Sprint's clothes in vivid emerald splatters. Another smack round the head made certain he stayed down. Satisfied, Sprint gazed at his handiwork before tending to Jennifer. 

Coming down to one knee, he placed his off hand on her chin, and carefully moved her head to one side so he could examine the seeping, red lump on her forehead, scarlet clots clinging to her hair. Further scrutiny showed a clear feeding mark between her breasts, and he hissed, dismayed. Gently, all too aware how delicate humans were, Sprint brought her onto her side, and ran a check down the length of her body. One of her ankles sat at an unusual angle, the flesh already puffy, vivid black and blue, and when he took her pulse, it seemed thready. All the injuries together with the feeding placed her at greater risk, he knew, but right now, he had other responsibilities... 

~xxXXxx~

The cleverman was agitated, but Guide picked up a clear picture of the task he contemplated and, disturbingly, an image of Jennifer lying prone on the ground. Torn loyalties flooded Guide as Sprint wrestled with his instinct to serve the female first, despite her species, locked by his heritage to respond as all his kind were want. The effort to ignore that conditioning impressed Guide, and he could not help but approve of the youth's decision to assist the children. The cleverman had done all he could for the Fair One, and now he had to hope help would arrive.

A few landmark details stood out as a clear reference, and Guide headed quickly through the trees, following the clues he had picked out of the jumbled imagery. Correlation came in the form of the narrow path leading through rocks, and he tore up the bank when he spotted a tell-tale sign of recent activity – slip marks in the mud, and a footprint, too small to belong to a male. When he finally broke through to the clearing, Sprint had disappeared into the pothole, and left Jennifer and Bluewater lying close to its mouth. A rope lashed tightly to a stump strained, groaning as fibres unravelled in response to an unseen weight attached to it.

Bending over Jennifer, Guide checked her injuries himself, the anger he had pushed to one side turning ice cold. However, the bleeding from the wound at her head seemed to have stopped, and although she was far too white, cool to the touch, she breathed easily enough. Removing his coat, he wrapped it round her so she would not get any colder, and he made his way over to the unconscious blade. Certain Bluewater was not about to wake, Guide snatched up the bag he had brought with him from beside Jennifer, and removed a coil of rope from its depths, making his way to the lip of the hole. As the cleverman was nowhere to be seen, Guide guessed he had already gone through the gap at the bottom. 

_~Darling... Sprint...?~_

A hue and cry started, which was quickly hushed. _~Commander?~_ The cleverman's voice held surprise, but he recovered quickly. _~ My Lord, did you bring assistance?~_

 _~I brought a better rope,~_ Guide responded, dryly, _~and the Hive Master is on his way.~_ An angry buzzing at the periphery of his mind, sharp as hornets, allowed Guide to fully appreciate that ones ire. _~I will pull the children up one by one.~_

_~One of the human children is injured...~_

A Wraith healer with intimate knowledge of human physiology would be extremely useful given the circumstances; Guide hoped Alabaster would arrive soon. _~Send the uninjured up first, and hurry.~_ A tug on the end of the rope indicated Sprint had complied with the order, and Guide braced himself, using the stump as a fulcrum, the first child appearing quickly. 

Dragging him to firm ground, and untying the rope, Guide growled, “Sit there, and do not move.”

“Yes, Lord.” Meek, the boy sat obediently, and hugged his knees, huddled in a small damp ball of misery.

Working together meant it did not take them long to get the remaining youngsters out, and the healthy children, including his get, managed to look anywhere but at him, palpable waves of shame, and wretchedness leaching from them. Unimpressed, Guide hunkered down to their level while Sprint made the sick lad as comfortable as he could. In response, Darling lifted his chin, and stared past Guide's shoulder, only a flicker of his eyes showed that he registered his grandsire's presence.

 _~What you did was an act of idiocy,~_ Guide said, and indicated the unconscious boy. _~He might die for the sake of your... escapade.~_

It stung a retort out of the boy. _~My mother will save him.~_

 _~If she gets here in time,~_ Guide said, mollified a little by the guilt and concern that crossed Darling's face. _~Which is by no means certain.~_

Swallowing, Darling's gaze then fixed on Jennifer, and he went paler still, looked ill. _~Commander... the Fair One... will she... is she...?~_

_~She is in need of care which, hopefully, Alabaster can provide once she arrives.~_

Eagerly, Darling nodded. _~ Grandfather... you will see. Mother is - ~_

With a chop of his hand, Guide silenced the boy, his mouth in a thin line of disapproval. _~Until such time that our Queen arrives, you will contemplate on a nonsense that could have brought about the death of you all. I trust you will have something with which to astound me once we return to Bright Venture.~_

Darling ducked his head, and seemed about to say something, but thought better of it when the eye of the red-haired lad caught his. Letting loose a long breath, he nodded. _~Yes, Lord.~_

Rising to his feet, Guide took the few steps to stand next to Jennifer, and went down on one knee. At least her breathing seemed easier, and she was not nearly so white as she had been. Torn between anger and relief, he wondered how this would affect the hive and its delicate balance, whether the Council would deem it better for all that the Lantean was far too much trouble, and that she should go back to Atlantis. A rare emotion stung him, and Guide took her small hand in his. It would be just that little bit lonelier, and emptier, if she did leave.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steelflower - Teyla  
> She Who Carries Many Things - Sam Carter

Hair flying past her shoulders, Alabaster paid scant attention to the Worshippers as they moved out of her path, hunched over in submission. Behind, Wintersong and Bonewhite followed, all thought and emotion controlled behind tight, impenetrable barriers that did not give so much as a hint as to their perception of events. Despite that, because of it even, she knew just how much loyalty her father commanded amongst the blades and cleverman aboard Bright Venture, knew too of his unscrupulous methods to bring about his own ends – after all, had not a Primary died at the end of his dagger? Although she did not fear that end, as he had ever been faithful to her mother, loved her deeply, with great passion but, since Snow's death, and Alabaster's own disappearance for many years, he had grown hard-headed, and far too used to command. Intractable, in many ways. Weighed against that, though, were his innumerable years, knowledge, his passion for life, for Wraith, for success. Could she, in all honesty, do without such council, when she had little true experience, her time spent with humans, which coloured her judgement? A puzzle for which she needed answers, none of them easy.

The sight of Darling standing between two of her human retainers slowed her, and Alabaster checked the area for Guide, but did not see his tall figure. Suppressing a huff of annoyance, she already guessed he would force her to a private interview so there would be no public display of remorse. That would never do for Guide, oh no. That ones arrogance never appeared to diminish under any circumstances. Sympathy and an abrupt, undesirable, rush of understanding swept across her for Sheppard and Woolsey, and She Who Carries Many Things. Imagination supplied vivid, detailed scenarios where the... difficulties he created with assorted machinations to bring his Alliance into the best political perspective would have conferred a lot more for Atlantis than simple nuisance. Certainly, his tactics were sound, but those games only now began to bear fruit in the aftermath of Death's destruction and their execution still might get them killed. 

As she got closer, her son dipped into a bow, visibly clamping down on his nerves. _~My Queen.~_

Alabaster eyed him, thoughtful, and placing her hand on his shoulder, brought him out of the bow. _~Where is your human friend, my blade?~_

 _~His mother took him back to her hut when Okamy couldn't help,~_ Darling explained, his small face pinched with anxiety. It did him credit, Alabaster thought, and she gave a grave nod in response. _~I'll take you.~_

Shrugging his shoulders back, Darling set off across the open village centre to slip into one of the narrow openings between a row of huts. They came out into a confined area, where a small human child, no more than two or three sat in the dirt outside a door. She surveyed their approach with large brown eyes, unafraid, dark curls framing her face, the baby animal she played with forgotten in her hands. 

_~Here,~_ Darling said, and the child shuffled to one side to let them through.

Scooping the infant up, Alabaster settled her on her hip, and scanned her surroundings. Troubled by the apparent poverty, Alabaster found herself bothered about the very same things her father had brought to her attention at the recent council meeting. Their Worshippers were well cared for, sustained, helped, and should not be living in this squalid manner. Was it that other factions were involved, perhaps to undermine her hive's influence. She could not detect another queen's work, and she speculated a little more about whether the interference could be human? A small hiss escaped as she considered the implications of the latter, bringing with it, as it did, all kinds of extra complications.

Pushing open the door, the interior was smoky, dim, and at first the humans cowered when she appeared. Eyes narrowed, she placed the child on her feet, keeping hold of her hand. “You have an injured boy?”

“Yes, lady,” a dark-haired female edged forward, and inclined a stiff bow. “He is asleep.”

“Where?” 

“Tha's my mama,” the girl-child piped up, and swung on Alabaster's hand. “Fol's poorly,” she added, helpfully, after a moment of thought.

Distracted, Alabaster glanced down, and smiled. “Go with Darling while I look after him for your mama.” Releasing her, she looked askance at the woman, expectantly, heard the door bang shut as the two children disappeared outside. “Well?”

“Through here,” the woman said, and indicated a ragged cloth covering a recess at the rear of the hut. Drawing it to one side, she bowed again as Alabaster stepped through. 

On a low wooden trestle, a boy of a similar age to Darling lay bundled in an equally ragged blanket, its bright tartan faded long ago to indeterminate pastels, a thin, but scrupulously clean, pillow supporting his head. On a stool sat a small bowl of water, with a bucket by the bedside close at hand. Bending over him, Alabaster placed her hand on his neck; he felt clammy, cool under her fingers, rapid heartbeat. Deftly peeling back the bandage on his forehead, she grimaced at its appearance. Hot, puffy, and angry, dark blue and black splotches fading to sickly greenish yellow at the edges made it look far worse than a simple contusion. 

“Has he vomited?” She directed the question at the nervous woman, who twisted her hands together, but managed a sharp nod. “How long ago?”

“Once, when he was brought back, Lady, an hour ago.”

Continuing her examination, Alabaster ran her off hand along the length of the lad's body, and checked over ears and nostrils. No blood, no brain fluid, which meant the concussion was simple, and he needed rest, and careful nursing. Baring his chest, she pressed her feeding hand gently against his skin, sipped the flavour of youth, delicate as sweet, ripe fruit, before allowing her own life to flow to him. Even so small an amount made a difference, Foleen's temperature stabilising, the grey tinge to his skin disappearing. Satisfied by the change in his breathing and pulse rate, Alabaster, turned back to the woman, pretending not to notice the tears of joy that slid from her eyes.

“As long as he gets plenty of rest, he should be back to normal within a few days.”

“Lady... I... my life... it... it... is yours.” Head bowed, the woman opened the front of her gown,and waited.

“That is not necessary,” Alabaster said, and cocked her head to the side. However, gratitude could take many forms. “Perhaps, there is something else we can discuss...?”

Surprise showed in the woman's face as she looked up, fast replaced by wariness, and she wet her lips with her tongue. “My lady?”

“Tell me more about the change of leadership that has taken place? I find myself most... curious.” Carefully arranging her skirts, Alabaster perched on the edge of the trestle, and crossed her feet at the ankles. “I feel certain your understanding of the situation will help me to understand as well.”

~xxXXxx~

Bonewhite circled the young blade, who sat on the ground with his knees drawn up, eyeing the Hive Master warily. Brilliantly green, those orbs held more than a small amount of scorn, something the youth did not bother to hide. An attitude that was more than easy arrogance or defiance to council policy. Recollection of the boy, and Sprint, joining Bright Venture, came back to him, simply because Sprint had stood out as an applicant, both his fast mind and rabid curiosity marking him apart from the rest of that group. This one had not made so great an impression, his particular talents less obvious, unless outstanding physical beauty could be regarded as such. Some blades were like Guide, ravenous for knowledge, and power, others were as this one, hungry only for power and the chance to become Pallax to a great queen. And while Guide's judgement was at times... questionable, Bonewhite had no doubt that at the heart of it, the well-being of Wraith was firmly seated. Whatever this man possessed seemed rather more centred on less worthy causes.

 _~You have drawn my attention, blade,~_ Bonewhite said, and came to halt. At an rapid gesture the drones lowered their stunners, and stepped back into the shadows. For all this boy's pride, he had been bested by a cleverman and Bonewhite did not doubt he could defeat him easily enough. Not that that was his purpose. _~Was there a reason for such stupidity? Did you think to escape without punishment after such actions?~_

Bluewater lifted his chin, fine mouth set in a narrow line. _~The human lives.~_

Though Keller remained obstinately unconscious, as if the blow to her head, and the feeding had created greater trauma that - which was what Guide suspected - Bonewhite could not deny. _~Your reasons behind this behaviour?~_

 _~How can Kine be so exalted?~_ the youth hissed, fury flashing across his face. _~How is it such a creature is accorded more lenience than any servant?~_

_~Because our queen wills it,~_ snarled Bonewhite, and took a step forward, off hand raised, ready to thrash the impudent pup. _~And that is reason enough.~_

_~Were you not Steelflower's man, not so long ago? Is your loyalty so readily cast aside for a queen that dances to the tune of humans?~_

Stupid or not, the blade knew exactly how to sting, all these things and more Bonewhite had often asked himself in recent days. With one exception – never had he sworn fealty to Steelflower despite the impression he and Guide had cultivated with such care. It seemed they had succeeded, as this boy was no more aware of the truth than Waterlight, and that one had killed Death. Unable to prevent himself, Bonewhite laughed. It billowed across the short distance and earned astonishment, then uncertainty.

 _~Oh,~_ the Hive Master said, enjoying himself hugely for the first time in an age, _~indeed I was. Her man to the bone.~_ Sobering, he leaned down, head slanted and bared teeth. _~Except now she is gone and Alabaster is our queen. Do you have an answer, whelp?~_

Bluewater's face twisted, and he glanced away to the distance. _~I would not have allowed harm to come to the child.~_

_~Just a human the Lanteans have entrusted to us, to allow us to change the fate of Wraith in the galaxy?~_ Bonewhite could not help the mocking tone, and he shook his head at the obtuseness of this blade. Such a pity Bright Venture and Alabaster needed every man, or he would have enjoyed ridding the hive of this nuisance. _~Her fate is entwined with ours.~_

_Doubt ebbed his way, and Bluewater hissed. _~A single female...?~_ _

_~Make no mistake, the Fair One is of utmost importance to us all, and it would behove you to remember that.~_ Studying the blade again, Bonewhite huffed. Whatever the youth's reasons, they were not treacherous, for this one was surely not sophisticated enough for double-dealing. However, once Alabaster had examined him, they would know more, and for certain. The Hive Master did not doubt she would rip the boy's mind open like a ripe fruit to find whatever lurked there, but if he were asked his opinion, it was that this child did not understand the nuances at play – nor ever would, if he judged him correctly. Moving so he stood by the door, Bonewhite said, mildly, and was rewarded by a sudden start of fear from Bluewater, _~Our queen comes.~_

_~xxXXxx~_

Water slopped over the rim of the bowl Okamy placed on the low table beside the bed, and Guide growled at her, irritated by the woman's clumsiness. Why the Hive Master suggested this creature should be brought to the hive to serve Jennifer, he had no idea, and he stared at her from under his eye ridges, watched her twist her fingers through the fabric of her skirt, waiting for dismissal. Yes, she had proved useful, and taken care of both the child and Jennifer with a brisk efficiency he liked but, right now, her nervousness grated on every nerve. 

“Do I frighten you?” he asked, just to see her squirm. Before she jerked a single nod in reply, she swallowed, the tremor in her fingers quite noticeable. “Good. Now get out, and see to your master's needs.” 

Frustrated by his own impatience, Guide knew exactly how churlish he seemed, but could not dispel the need to sharpen his tongue on whoever was unfortunate enough to come near. This squalid place, completely inadequate, simply would not do, but it served to stoke his temper just that little bit more. Until the cruiser arrived, they were stuck here, and he did not like it. He only registered the Worshipper had gone when the wooden door thudded against its frame. Beside him, Darling hovered, his attention on the woman lying on the bed, a small human girl beside him, clutched at his hand, all eyes and dark curls as she stared at Guide. 

_~Will she get better?~_

_~Yes.~_ A thick cloth swam in the bowl, and Guide squeezed water from it, and then applied it to the lump on the side of Jennifer's head, dissolving the blood and mats of hair clinging to her skin. 

_~Grandfather... ~_ The boy trailed off when Guide did not acknowledge he had spoken, but after a hesitation, made an obvious decision to pursue what was on his mind, and whispered the question. _~Even... even though she has been... fed upon?~_

_~Hmmm...~_ While he considered that, Guide rinsed the cloth out, then restarted his careful cleansing. _~It may take longer than normal.~_

_~Lord -~_

Interrupting the lad, Guide tipped his head, and appraised him, voice hard, _~I trust you have thought on your actions?~_ Rebellion sat in Darling's eyes for a second, a determination not to have blame apportioned to him. _~Oh, believe me - ~_ Guide stopped what he was doing so he could address Darling directly - _~ I accept you thought it a fine idea, and you also believed you would not get caught but, even if you considered taking the risk to go off with the human children to their... play area would be worthwhile, you should have shown more restraint.~_ When Darling remained silent, Guide went back to his task. _~You are of an age that I expect you to behave like the blade you wish to be.~_

Stung to make a response at last, Darling said, _~Foleen said it would be fun, and - ~_

 _~Fun?~_ Guide snapped, and stared at him in disbelief. _~ So much fun that one of you got injured because you went to an area explicitly forbidden by adults - ~_

Petulant, Darling interrupted, _~But they are humans - ~_

 _~Yes,~_ agreed Guide, livid, _~they are. And you would do well to heed them on their home world, especially as humans are prone to die easily.~_ Darling had the grace to look away, ashamed. _~Do not think to fall into the trap that because they are Kine they are not - ~_ Guide halted, and gazed at the woman, as things he thought impossible fell into place, firmed to realisation – _~people.~_

People. Bald and fat, the truth defied him to scoff at such a concept. An uncomfortable fact he tried long to deny. The Fair One was not just an alien, one to feed on, or a pet, but an individual in her own right. How long, he wondered, would it take for his brothers to see the truth? Oh, he knew some already marched side by side with him, but it would take more than his assertion, more than the retrovirus to change things, more than the persuasion of a queen, or queens. Hands far younger than his moulded the future, as they always did. Torren and Darling, Sprint, Ember, Waterlight, Bronze and all those others as yet unborn, including Kine. They were the ones on which the future depended and, now all they had to do was spread the word, learn from each other. 

Guide chuckled darkly. Who would have guessed a journey undertaken with a human warrior, a true brother, or Teyla Emmagan, even McKay and Ronon, would lead him to this day, this... certainty? To this woman had taken him those last steps to completion. A young woman, who trusted him with both her life and her heart. No, it was true she would never replace Snow. None could fill that chasm but... how could he deny the warmth or simple delight which filled him when they were together, gave him reason – more so even than Darling or Alabaster, or their work – to continue. 

_~People?~_ Darling lifted his head and considered his grandsire. 

_~Do not forget it,~_ Guide said, and placed the cloth in the bowl. _~You are the future.~_ Once, a million years ago, he posed a question to himself, _“What would we do, who would we be...?”_ , and the answer lay right in front of him. Friends, companions... lovers. Lover. Loved. Taking Jennifer's hand, his mouth twisted when her fingers curled round his. Even in her sleep, she recognised him and the safety he represented. 

Both felt the cool touch of Alabaster's mind at the same time, and Guide drew a deep breath, part of him dreading the forthcoming... conversation. Eyes huge in his face, the child had turned pale, his sensory pits deep-cut slashes against his skin when disapproval and dissatisfaction battered past their defences as if they were insubstantial as paper. Tantalising hints showed Guide Alabaster had intentions of shuffling he and Jennifer off to another planet. One deeper in their territory where they would cause 'less trouble'. Grabbing Darling's arm, Guide shook him to attention, and bolted down an answering surge of anger. Oh, she thought to displace him, did she?

_~You must go back to your mother.~_

_~Yes.~_ The child made to hurry out of the hut, but halted at the door, turned to gaze at Guide. _~Will you come too?~_

Placing Jennifer's hand on the bed, Guide bared teeth. _~I'm sure our queen will find me soon enough.~_ When doubt crossed Darling's face, Guide growled. _~Go. Now.~_ At the sharp edge to the command, even as Guide finished speaking, Darling fled out of the door, his small charge in tow, without so much as a glance back. 

Turning back to the woman, Guide contemplated the near future, and what it could mean for both of them. Whatever needed saying would be aired very shortly, and he had no doubt he would need every wile to convince Alabaster to take another, more lenient, course. Two things stood in his favour, though. Right now, she needed him, and the Fair One, to complete those infernal experiments. He would not fade away as society deemed he should. No matter what she commanded.


	12. Chapter 12

_~I cannot believe you took it upon yourself to search for Dr. Keller when you know the Nova's situation is so volatile.~_ Alabaster span on her heel and approached Guide, who brazenly met her glare with one as hard. _~It placed us in an untenable position. What if Burn decided to attack? What if - ~_

Guide snorted, interrupting her. _~But he did not, and it is my assessment he is far too concerned about impressing you than in performing political acrobatics. Capture or destruction of our ship is not an option to achieve the goal he has picked out.~_ Crossing back to the bed where Jennifer lay, Guide looked down at her, and the tone of his voice altered. _~Our Alliance was never in any danger, and certainly not from Waterlight or Bronze. They are too young yet to hold ambitions such as you suggest, and need the leadership of those with more experience to direct them.~_

 _~She bested Death,~_ Alabaster hissed, adamant, and Guide lifted his head to eye her. He had his own suspicions about that, but saw no reason to expound on them. _~And as you so rightly point out, she is as yet, young, unformed, easily manipulated -~_

 _~Just so, daughter. It is up to us to mould her,~_ he snapped, and his patience twanged like a wire. _~You can provide the hand that guides, if you choose to do so, plus you may rely on Teyla Emmagan to provide counsel if an issue needs the view of another, more experienced, queen.~_

Alabaster threw up her hands, and resumed pacing across the tiny room, her skirts in full motion. _~Despite Steelflower's prowess, Commander, she cannot hope to understand the nuances of Wraith politics.~_

 _~She did well enough with our guidance,~_ Guide replied, pointedly, and came to his feet as Alabaster came closer. Vexed, she stared at him, yellow eyes wide with disapproval. _~Well enough to have any number of blades and clevermen fooled, including the idiot Bonewhite is handling.~_

 _~Bluewater is no threat,~_ she agreed, grudgingly, and tilted her chin up so she could look at him more directly. _~Still, Steelflower is no longer close at hand, and I am your queen now. All matters should be discussed in council, and with me.~_ Guide growled, the sound soft, and Alabaster leaned in so they almost touched. _~It was badly done that you discussed Burn's interest in me with your current paramour.~_ She spared a rapid glance at the human. _~Unless he has been superseded?~_

A glimmer of surprise fought its way to the surface. If Ember had spoken with Alabaster, he would have his reasons, but Guide found himself peeved by the information. As for the snide comment regarding Jennifer, he bared teeth. _~You disapprove?~_

_~I recall I told you to treat her gently.~_

Angered, Guide snapped, _~Have I not? Pray, tell me how that is so, when I have done nothing except honour her?~_ Guts churning with a dozen different emotions, he strode across the room, away from Alabaster. _~This is beside the point.~_

 _~Hardly.~_ The challenge followed him, hard and clear. _~If your... affections allow for so serious a lapse in judgement, how can I trust any advice you might give?~_

Just for a moment, Guide clenched his hands, and then turned back to face her. _~ As soon as I knew the situation, I could not leave it to chance she would be found. The Fair One represents far too much... investment for that.~_ Truly angry, he swallowed it, kept his voice measured. _~My advice is the same as it will ever be. With the retrovirus, Wraith might yet survive. Without it, we will not.~_ Eyes much like Snow's swept across him with an answering rage, but he ignored the pang of remembrance and jabbed a forefinger at her. _~You know full well Jennifer is key to the success of retrovirus, and that we also need the Lanteans as our allies.~_

Alabaster made a disgusted noise, but acknowledged his point with a nod. It grew quiet in the room, disturbed only by the gentle sound of the Fair One breathing steadily in sleep, resting now Alabaster had set her ankle, and tended to her wounds. Guide drew closer again, concern, and those gentler things he associated with Jennifer dissipated his mood. With the effectiveness of the retrovirus proven beyond doubt, his liking increased every day. Gently, he brushed the hair from her cheek, and caught her hand as it sought his. 

_~This cannot continue,~_ Alabaster said, from behind him. _~Surely you cannot believe such a liaison is anything except counterproductive?~_

Weary of the whole thing, Guide lowered his head in contemplation. Oh, he understood all too well the inferences, and the approbation that could follow if he were to allow the relationship to develop; he knew, also, the delicate balance of the current situation could so easily be rocked by whatever decision he made. In particular if he followed his emotional needs. Indifference, detachment, objectivity, these were the qualities he should apply, and logic decreed he should move from a situation rapidly becoming difficult. One that could become an embarrassment. So why did he falter over the right thing to do?

 _~Perhaps.~_ A snort told Guide precisely what Alabaster thought of that announcement, and he felt her move away. A barrage of mixed emotions swarmed towards him, with doubt sat at the front, threatening to shake both his composure and self-belief. Uncertainty in him and his motives? Astonished, he faced her. _~You think I would jeopardise our alliance, our hopes, for the sake of the Fair One?~_

 _~I did not say that.~_

_~No, you did not. There was no need, my Queen.~_

_~How dare you mock me. You will not use me as a bargaining tool to further your own ends, father, and you thought to do so.~_ Exception rang in Alabaster's voice but, beneath, Guide sensed her struggle to slot into place the changes in him. _~Now, explain why I should consider it beyond you to usurp everything we hope to achieve for the sake of the Lantean?~_

_~Never for just my ends,~_ Guide objected, certain she would see this truth if nothing else, _~but for all of Wraith.~_ He spread his arms wide, bowed and, with ferocity of belief, added, _~What we have is too fragile to withstand further catastrophic infighting. We are too few.~_

 _~Would you sacrifice her for Wraith?~_ Guide's fists tightened, and his talons dug into his palms, hating the truth. Numb, he jerked a nod, but could not speak in case his voice betrayed him and fixed on the window behind her, watching the breeze stir small golden leaves on the tree outside. Faintly, he heard Alabaster say, _~Let us hope it will never come to that.~_

Gruff, he said, _~It will not.~_ He would not allow it.

_~If you temper your... involvement with her, Guide, I see no reason why you cannot proceed with your collaboration.~_

_~And if I choose not...?~_ Genuinely, he had an interest in her response.

Exasperated, Alabaster bared teeth, her green-gold eyes glinting. _~Then I will have no choice but to send -~_

_~My Queen...~_

Alabaster made a visible effort to control her temper, and glanced over her shoulder at Bonewhite, who stood in the open doorway, an apologetic expression on his face. _~Yes?~_

_~Forgive my intrusion, but the stretcher bearers are here to collect Dr. Keller.~_

_~Thank you, Hive Master,~_ she acknowledged, and faced Guide again as the other beat a hasty retreat. _~This is not the place to continue this discussion, and there are other matters...~_

 _~Oh?~_ he said, and stepped out of the way for the humans to enter the room, his interest piqued by the change in subject. He caught her eye, held her gaze without flinching. _~Matters relating to Worshippers?~_ The flash of concern that crossed her features told him more than words. _~And yet, you concern yourself with trivialities, such as the relationship the Fair One and I have developed, rather than address a problem, which could escalate into an intolerable situation.~_

Mouth set in a thin line, Alabaster scanned him, cold as absolute zero. _~Commander, you will attend me, and then we will discuss what alternatives are left open to you.~_

Dropping to another bow, Guide clenched tight the emotions troubling him and his desire to resolve matters in a manner more to his liking. Options indeed? It occurred to him, as Alabaster swept past, that perhaps a secluded outpost might be the option with the most appeal.

~xxXXxx~

“We should hurry,” Okamy murmured, and ducked past the opening in front of them that lead to the side passage to the Fair One's quarters. “The Commander will not visit her again for some time. Though I cannot speak for the Hive Master.”

“She sent for me?” Sprint thought it was worth checking, as after his interview with Bonewhite, he had been left with the very clear impression he was lucky to walk away with his life, and he should stay away from Jennifer until such time he proved himself trustworthy. As for a meeting with Guide - it would happen soon enough. Fingers tightening about the crystal in his hand, a nervous frisson chilled his guts. At present, he would much rather not be in the vicinity of either of the senior blades of the council. Not that creeping round the halls filled him with cheer, either; it held a strictly limited appeal. “Is she well?”

“Well enough, Lord,” the Worshipper replied, and shot him a curious look, but kept her mouth sealed as she drew to a halt outside a narrow passage, one used by Worshippers attending the queen. “My pardon, but I must leave you here.”

“You are not coming?”

Head ducked, Okamy gave a bow. “I have duties elsewhere.”

Sprint grunted, and watched her disappear, her slim figure scurrying into the dark recesses. Why the Hive Master chose to select her from much better trained humans available from the villagers, he did not fully understand? The woman, although respectful, had an air about her which bordered on impudence. Due, perhaps, to the patronage she enjoyed? Pondering on that for a moment, he wondered how Bonewhite dealt with her but concluded, as she was indenture to him, a blade certain to join the zenana, he could deal with her insubordination as required. Edging through the darkness, he swallowed his nervousness, and set off down the passageway, the sound of his boot heels muted in the confined area. At the end he could see it widen out to the main corridor, and he accelerated his pace, emerging almost next to the quarters assigned to the Lantean.

Waving his hand over the door controls, they slid open with a hiss, but Sprint lingered on the threshold before taking a step into the interior. Not long ago they had met in a similar manner, wrestling with suppositions until they reached understanding. New to each other, it had stretched them both, and now, well, things were different, though he knew they were truly only at the very beginning of what could develop further. He scanned the room, but saw no one. “Jennifer...?”

“I'm through here,” she said, and Sprint poked his head round the alcove set at the rear of the room, to see her settled in a chair with a number of supple pelts wrapped round her. A tablet rested on her knees, and she gave him a wan smile, fingers running through the thick, dark fur.

Sprint frowned, and crossed to a chair opposite, seating himself decorously. Leaning forward, he tipped his head to better scrutinise her. “You are still unwell?”

“Definitely felt healthier,” she said, and hissed with pain as she shifted before setting her tablet on the table beside her. “Feel as if someone punched me in the ribs.”

Uncertain how to respond, Sprint suppressed the impulse to apologise. Instead, he avoided the subject. “I have the results for the last batch of inoculations, and also details of the genomes from Meer'Cha. Some of them are promising.”

“Great,” she said, but from her tone, Sprint gathered she lacked enthusiasm. She proffered a hand, and he reached across the small divide to give her the crystal. Instead of inserting it into her tablet, she turned it over in her fingers, held it loosely, and met Sprint's gaze. “What's happened for you?”

He could hardly pretend he did not know what she meant, and he avoided eye contact, uncomfortable. Finally, because he could say nothing else, he admitted, “I consider myself fortunate the queen saw fit to treat me benevolently.”

“Had your ass kicked, huh?”

Sprint eyed her, and snorted. “In a manner of speaking.”

“I haven't escaped a severe lecture, either,” she said, and they stared at each other for a moment. “Bonewhite gave me the facts in minute detail, so I've been left with no illusions about how reckless I've been, or just how much trouble I've caused for the hive. Talk about a guilt trip.” She rolled her eyes, and shot a mutinous look at Sprint, one with which he identified completely. “You too, huh? It was worth the risk, damn it – we got Darling back.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But you were injured, and that should not have happened, though at least I have been allowed to continue with the work, Jennifer, while you recuperate.”

“Yeah, well...” Changing the subject, she asked, “Has Guide spoken with you, yet?”

A small shudder passed through Sprint's frame, and he shook his head. “I have not, yet, had that... pleasure.”

“I've put in a good word for you, though I don't know if he heard me.” An sheepish look settled on her face, and she coloured a little, as if the thought Guide would pay attention to anything she said was not credible. Boldly, she added, “I think it's only fair I should take the majority of the blame, as it was my idea.”

“And I should have told Bonewhite my misgivings about Darling,” Sprint said, and sat back. “If we had both thought more clearly instead of reacting...”

“Pffft... if we'd both been thinking straight we would never have bothered.” Jennifer waved the comment aside, and gave him a crooked smile. “I was riled, and you... well... you had your reasons to go along with the idea.”

“Yes.” Agreement sat uncomfortably with him, and Sprint wondered if his impulse had been brought about less by his role as escort, and more about saving his own skin? Unexpected results had occurred, because he also observed his reactions to Jennifer were in line with his socialisation. Few males, blade or cleverman, once they knew her, would react any differently, and the discovery discomforted him. A sensation which grew, as realisation of how deep such tenets ran meant at least one of the reasons behind Guide's behaviour towards Jennifer became understandable. He did not doubt Guide was aware of this fact, either. “Has Guide spoken with you?”

Surprise followed when Jennifer shook her head. “He's come by to see how I am, checking up, and that's when I spoke about your involvement, but -” she shrugged, and bit her lip - “beyond that, not a single word. I think I've really pissed him off this time.”

Sprint huffed, and regarded her carefully. Was she oblivious to all the signs which Alabaster, and the members of the council debated, holding them at loggerheads? Surely not, unless she believed he could not reciprocate the oh-so-transparent emotions she exhibited? “Indeed.” 

She glanced away, obviously troubled. “If he would talk to me, then I'm positive we could work together again.”

This time Sprint felt compelled to say something. “You do know the queen is looking into placing you on another planet with a small team for support, and Guide is under orders to remain distant from you?”

Startled, Jennifer's eyes widened. “Oh...” Thoughtful, she turned the crystal over again in her hand, and then set it on top of the tablet. “I … no... I had... no idea.”

“It is being debated, Fair One, whether you should remain on Bright Venture because... Well... Our... rescue is seen as disruptive, particularly as Guide came to find you.”

Dark eyes gazed at him, searched him, wonder in them. “He did?”

Embarrassed by the naked emotions he sensed flitting through her, Sprint found a sudden interest in the way the roof curved elegantly and how the twining vines supported the bed from the ceiling. Somehow though, he managed to rasp out, “Yes, and that is the reason he is not allowed to see you other than to ensure your well-being.” Jennifer fell silent, the expression in her face told Sprint all he needed. “You didn't know?”

“How could I?” she asked, and clasped her hands. Sprint noticed they shook. “I was unconscious until yesterday.”

“I should not have said anything,” he muttered, dismayed, wondering when he would stop this unfortunate habit of blurting out news that might well get him in a heap of more trouble. Too conditioned to respond in a particular way, he reminded himself bitterly. “Please, ignore what I said.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Agitated, she reached for a cup on the table, and knocked it flying so it spilled over the floor in a glorious shade of purple. The cleverman went to one knee, and picked it up, mindful of the spreading puddle. “Damn, damn, damn.” Jennifer put her head in her hands, her hair falling past her cheek in a soft honey cloud. “I can't do this, Sprint... I just can't...” 

“You think you cannot,” he said, prompted by a sharp affinity for her plight, and placed his off hand on her arm, “but you are strong, and if you are sent to another planet -”

“No.” She looked up, and said, “Guide. I don't know what he wants.”

Sprint dropped his gaze, dawning realisation of the severity of the scenario terribly real, as now he realised the Fair One, too, held deep regard for Guide, as tangled as his own responses. Whatever he thought of their situation was the rankest hypocrisy, because the implications were there for all to see. So he opted for an easier path – a non-committal reply. “I do not think he knows himself.”

A snort of mocking laughter was not on Sprint's agenda. “Not him. He knows exactly what he's doing all the time.”

And while Sprint could not deny the truth in the statement, right now, at the present, concerning Jennifer Keller, the cleverman did not believe she saw the dilemma with a clear mind. Tightening his hand around her arm, he shook his head. “No, in this, Jennifer, you are wrong. And it has caused more trouble in the council than you can imagine.”


	13. Chapter 13

Feet crossed at the ankle, Guide affected an air of unconcern, keeping a careful grasp on his temper. So far the council had seen fit to disregard nearly everything he suggested, and placed Jennifer pretty much under house arrest. Which he believed excessive and reactionary. The only small concession was that he was still allowed to work with her, but only under close supervision. An unwanted growl rumbled in the pit of his belly, and he huffed, to effect a disguise. Not well, as Alabaster's head swung to face him.

 _~You have something to say?~_ Alabaster fastened a sharp green-gold stare on him, and Guide managed to assume a wounded mien. ~Because your input is valuable, as always.~

The heavy sarcasm was not lost on any present in the room, and Guide found himself keenly scrutinised as they all waited on a response. Opting for a nod of acknowledgement, he murmured, _~Forgive me, I did not think I had disturbed you, my queen.~_

Mouth tight, Alabaster turned back to Bonewhite and Precision. _~This disturbance among the Worshippers, it cannot go unchallenged.~_

 _~It would serve us to remain careful,~_ Ember said, and came into the light. Guide knew well how the cleverman felt, and what he believed – he would be a voice of reason and an advocate for humans, as well as provide support for his cause. _~We know the herd is uneasy, that other factors are at play to prevent us from introducing the retrovirus into the populace. It seems infiltration has already begun.~_

A murmur of agreement followed his statement, and gloom settled in the room. Thoughtful, Alabaster said, _~At present, all I can discern is this incursion is a mission to discover facts, and it may disrupt progress right now, so ultimately it is in our interest to prevent dissension spreading among our Worshippers. ~_ The added proviso earned a grunt of acknowledgement 

_~We must act to counter it,~_ Precision said. _~Before it spreads to other planets annexed to us.~_

 _~The human I have taken as servant will provide some insight,~_ Bonewhite said, and huffed. _~She is not native to Meer'Cha, and despite her story has little experience of Wraith. It is my belief, and our queen's, that her arrival with the new Lady is a coincidence, on which further research might shed light.~_

 _~Our weakness has ever been our method of feeding,~_ Guide put in before anyone else could say anything further. It was a point they could not ignore. He stepped into the circle, uncaring that he might have overstepped some invisible boundary, or the change of subject. _~This is not a secret -~_ he added, scathingly, and glanced around at each of the blades and clevermen present - _~but something we have sought long and hard to manage for centuries.~_

 _~They fear us,~_ Precision interjected, and he glanced at each of them in turn, _~or, more particularly, right now they fear the consequences of the retrovirus, that it might mean enslavement.~_

 _~They do more than fear, brother,~_ Bonewhite said, his mouth twisted into a thin smile. _~It is an active hate, and one we will not dispel with a few inoculations, or rhetoric. Indeed, it may well be construed such actions act against the outcome we desire.~_

 _~Then we need to show them this procedure would mean greater safety for all planetary systems in the galaxy,~_ Alabaster said, her voice firm. 

Precision bared teeth, and bowed. _~With respect, my queen... How?~_

Stepping in again, Guide said, his voice mild, _~Would it not behove us to show that human and Wraith can live together, harmoniously, and that the retrovirus is key to this?~_

Silence followed, and Alabaster met his eyes, examined him closely. _~Using Dr. Keller as an example?~_

 _~Of course,~_ Guide said. _~It would hardly be logical to deny her presence is a huge coup, and would promote our stance with some human societies. Nor can it be ignored that your own retainers are human males.~_

 _~But it is also true not all regard the New Lanteans as the saviours of Pegasus,~_ Ember interposed, his tones also mild. He shrugged. _~Despite my own perspective, this is a valid point and needs careful consideration.~_

 _~Indeed... It is not our Worshippers who need convincing of the benefits of the retrovirus,~_ Guide continued. Attention was now fixed on him. _~Is it?~_

 _~So you propose the Fair One is held up as an example to show other Kine we can live... symbiotically?~_ The Hive Master tipped his head in consideration of the idea. _~But as Ember has remarked, not all human groups would consider Atlantis as anything more than meddlesome.~_

 _~She is Lantean, and as an Ambassador for her people, she could prove invaluable to our cause,~_ Guide said, compelled to drive home his reasoning, and watched Alabaster as she mulled over the discussion. _~We would be foolish not to utilise her in this regard, or to forget the impact human retainers treated as any blade might have.~_

_~Symbiosis is the only way to achieve our ends,~_ Alabaster said, and made her way over to her throne. Arranging her skirts in a satisfactory manner, she remained thoughtful, quiet, and then met Guide's eyes. _~A difficult concept to sell, as there is very little benefit to humans from us feeding on them, although, if successful, it could also ameliorate our other issue.~_

 _~But, unless the gift continues to function in a similar, if reduced, form,~_ Ember said, focussed on Alabaster, _~we will not be able to use that as a bargaining point.~_

 _~They do benefit in other obvious areas,~_ Precision said, and a thin smile showed the points of his teeth. _~They will not die, and we will not need to cull.~_

 _~Which is precisely the argument they will use against the treatment.~_ From the way the Hive Master examined his well-manicured talons as he spoke, Guide knew that one struggled with both perspective, and cultural expectations. He also knew Bonewhite understood what they stood to lose if they did not succeed. _~What we need to consider is whether we offer something equitable, which humans might regard as symbiotic.~_

 _~Protection?~_ Hasten threw that out into the pot for consideration with obvious doubt, but Alabaster narrowed her eyes in contemplation. Guide agreed. That had possibilities. He added, hastily, _~Perhaps even sharing technological information with some?~_

 _~The problem is larger than that.~_ The statement was bald, and Guide made no apology for it. _~Convincing other factions we hold the key to survival in Pegasus will not be easy, and for some it may well be a step too far.~_

 _~Yes.~_ Alabaster was in complete accord, and a solid feel of harmony came from the rest of the council. Another truth voiced. _~But somehow we must find a way to convince them.~_ Silver glinted on her fingers as she smoothed the pleats of her gown, and then she looked up at Guide. _~We must change if we are to survive, and to do that we have to learn to treat humans as more than food. They are both friends and... kin.~_

 _~More even than that,~_ Guide said, adamant, and every eye fastened on him. _~They are equal, and they are the future.~_ The clamour which greeted his words made Guide slam his hand down on the table. _~If you are unable to see past your prejudice then you are of no use to either me or our Queen.~_

 _~Few may recognise this, fewer will want to,~_ Hasten growled, but his mind projected concern, distaste, and reluctant acceptance. _~Less will incorporate the knowledge and act on it as they should.~_

 _~The lifetime of one human may not long enough to effect change,~_ Guide said, and a heavy sorrow weighed on him, one he did not bother to hide. _~It may be that those shifts in society will only occur in the next two generations of humans.~_

Distress showed on Ember's fine features, and he shook his head. _~Those of us with brothers among humans wish to see some benefit from the treatment for humans, one which will allow us to develop a true bond. One that will extend their lives too.~_

 _~I do not wish to see my sister die,~_ Alabaster said, and her sadness was palpable. As quickly as the mood swept over her she dispelled it. _~Yes, father, you are right. The Fair One is key to many possibilities and it is appropriate for us to treat her equally, as well as allow her access to all areas of our culture. With her help, and the Lanteans, we will bring Wraith and human to a new age, and...~_ For a second she faltered, but a new resolve shone in her face. Shaking back her long hair, she gave him a grim little smile. _~Whatever the reason... you are central to this too.~_

 

~xxXXxx~

Pleased by the way the session in council had gone, Guide stopped outside the laboratory door and only at the last second decided to go in. Sprint should be there, finalising some of the results for analysis, and though he had to speak with the cleverman, Guide found he did not really hold any blame to him for what had occurred. As soon as he put his feet over the threshold, his mood flipped from initial pleasure at seeing her to annoyance, and he uttered a low growl.

“Jennifer, why are you here?” 

Dishevelled blonde hair shadowed her face as she started guiltily, and she cast a look at him over her shoulder. “I'm fine.” A faint colour stained her neck, and Guide tipped his head. “I wanted to see the results for myself.”

“You need to rest,” he admonished, and strode forward, off hand reaching to place the back of it on her forehead, noted the dark shadows under her eyes. “Are you unwell?” Despite her colour, she felt cool enough, and he resisted the urge to stroke her cheek.

“I said I'm fine,” she snapped, ducked away and reached for the crutches resting against the bench, manoeuvring herself round so she could face him properly. “Really, I am. Don't fuss.”

“Fuss?” Another growl rumbled through him, dispersing what patience he had scraped together. “You are patently not 'fine', my dear, and I do not fuss.”

“You are right now.” 

Catching himself before he escalated this to a true argument, Guide waited for a beat or two before saying, in low tones, “Jennifer, it has only been a few days since you were injured, and fed on. As you have pointed out, frequently, the need to recuperate is extremely important.”

“Yeah, well, you need me to oversee all of this.” She waved her hand at the laboratory in a general sort of way. “Sprint can't do it on his own.”

“Ember has been allocated to help while you regain your health.”

Irritation flitted over her pretty face, and she glared at him. “Damn it all, Guide, I need something to do. I'm bored and this was the primary reason for me coming with you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, and gripped her upper arm, propelling her gently to her usual seat. “But it will not want for the lack of your presence for a few days.” Unable to shake him off, Jennifer gave up resisting, and reluctantly sat. “Stay there while I retrieve a few items.”

“How dare you,” she said, quiet, but all the more forceful for that. “How dare you patronise me.” On her feet again, she hobbled past him surprisingly fast. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Pulling on resources he had no idea he possessed, Guide managed to grind out, “I understand you are frustrated, and you wish to return to work, but you have been injured, and need to rest. I would be failing in my duty if I were to let you continue.”

“I see.” Brittle, with all the warmth of vacuum, Jennifer stiffened, her whole body rigid. “Duty.”

From the flint in her eyes, Guide realised he had overstepped a mark, but he ignored the signs, instead dismissed the flood of emotion streaming at him. “It would be remiss to allow you to overtax yourself so -” and he took her elbow, began to steer her towards the door - “allow the drones to take you back to your quarters.”

Two drones appeared, waiting for his orders, impassive giants, and Guide took a confident stride towards them, except Jennifer twisted her arm out of his grip, and wobbled, her crutches slipping on the smooth floor. Unable to stop her crashing to the ground, Guide hissed, and went to his knees, his hands under her armpits to bring her to a sitting position. Angry, he did not trust himself to speak, but then he saw the expression that flitted across her features. It lasted no more than a few seconds, and it held such anguish, he forgot everything else except her fragility.

Turning her face from him, her voice was thick. “Just...just... leave me be. Go... away.”

“What were you thinking,” he admonished, “to attempt such a thing?”

“Will you... just... leave... me, please.” 

“Don't be ridiculous, child.” 

“Child?” she spat, and renewed her struggle. “I'm not a child... I'm not an... infant for you to cosset, or control. So... Let. Me. Be.” 

Shifting his hold, Guide swung her into his arms, and got to his feet, remembering another time when he had carried her. He marched purposefully out the door, the drones trailing behind as he set off down the corridor. “No,” he agreed, willing to give her that much,”you are no child. But you are human, and prone to injury which -” she began to protest, but he overrode her - “leaves you vulnerable.”

“Put me down.” Exasperation rang clear in her voice, and she fought against him a little, finally giving up when he simply tightened his hold. “Guide... please.”

Disregarding her, he marched through the halls without acknowledging any of the curious glances cast in his direction. On reaching her quarters, Guide directed the drones to wait outside, and he took her straight through to her bed. Setting her down, he turned to leave, but stopped when her hand fastened on his wrist.

“Guide...”

He looked down at her, and frowned. “Yes?” On impulse he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and waited as she gathered her thoughts. “What is it?”

“Do you really see me as a kid... someone to just...” Trailing off, she shook her head, and appeared to come to a decision. “I...”

Unprepared, Guide froze when her mouth pressed against his, and she leaned into him with a mute appeal. The taste of her was sweet, and fresh, and unthinking, he responded, wrapped his hands at her waist and pulled her close, the need in him strong. So young, so lovely, and she wanted him. Insanity ruled, pulsed in his guts, his groin, heating his blood, his heart racing as it had when he was young, before he lost Snow. And it was madness. Madness.

Breathing heavily, he broke the kiss, and pushed her away, rose to his feet, his back towards her. Clenching his hands to fists, he said, “Forgive me.”

“Don’t… don’t, just don’t.” Jennifer raged at him, and he faced her again. Hair tumbled down her back, a silken waterfall as it escaped the oh-so-careful knot she had tied in it. “Don’t treat me like a child… I’m not a -”

“Jennifer,” Guide interrupted, and stepped back to the bed, “I do not think of you as a child. You are no child, my dear, you are a woman -”

“That’s how I’m treated… like a stupid kid, without the sense to understand a damn thing. How dare you, how dare any of you. Do you think I’m a fool as well?” Eyes wild, she grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him, but he stepped out of its way, not sparing a single glance as another bounced off his leather armour, and grabbed her elbows to stop the missiles. 

“Stop this. You are no child to me…” Guide grappled with her as she struggled, inching down her forearms until he had her wrists in his hands. “Stop, Jennifer, you will hurt yourself if you fight me.” Sitting back down, he looked into her eyes.

“I can’t stand this a moment longer… I wasn’t… just to…”

In his palms she shook like a leaf, and then she pushed hard, all her weight behind the motion in an attempt to break free. As immoveable as a cliff, Guide allowed her to try, and then rest her head against his shoulder; she looked up into his face, eyes glistening. A soft groan moved through him, as he took in the sweet alien fragrance of her skin, and his frozen heart lurched once more as it hadn’t done in years.

“What are you to me?” he breathed, enthralled by the softness of her skin, the curve of her mouth. 

“Nothing,” she whispered, and in the word he heard a thousand more questions, and pain deep as oceans. “I’m nothing.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and turned her face away, turmoil written loud as a shout. 

Silence feathered over them, and Guide drew her closer, placed his hands over hers, and flattened them against his chest. What could he say, when he did not know himself, when this path was not one he’d ever trodden, when all the years of his life gave him no answer, no reason, except she gave warmth, was lovely, compassionate... Hurt and sorrow, remembrance, threatened to engulf him for a fleeting second, and then he remembered small joys when Jennifer smiled at him, her eyes grave, or how she laughed when he teased. Her bravery, enduring his anger without so much as a flinch…

“Little one.” His lips whispered against the skin of her forehead, the taste of her against his tongue. “You have great worth -”

“Yes. As a pet.” Venom carried the words.

“No.” Veracity, conviction filled him. Guide shut his eyes, allowed the awareness of her small frame against his own to run through him. “Never.”

“Don’t… don’t… please… don’t… just don’t, Guide…” 

The plea moved him more than he could say, more than the sum of all the experience of his ancient life, and his heart again swelled, contracting painfully. Could it be this woman, this human had done what so many could not? Made him believe in life and what it had to offer, even to one such as he, when hope had been removed so many times. His fingers tightened, and the pulse in her slender wrists raced in response, her hands against the leather of his coat. 

“Jennifer… my dear one…” 

No hidden truths, no lies were in dark eyes that shone like stars, and he saw himself at last, reflected, and all the words she would not say. Soft lips quivered, and she sighed, a single tear sliding down her cheek. Gently, Guide pushed his fingers into her hair, lowered his forehead to hers. If only they could remain here, etched in shadow, lost in each other for an eternity, where no one could place blame, where they could not doubt this truth belonged to them and no others, to love without restriction, or censure, to be. To simply be.


	14. Chapter 14

The heavy leather coat made a dull thud as it hit the chair, and Bonewhite rolled his shoulders to ease out the tension from his last conversation with Alabaster. Guide had been absent. A necessity, in all likelihood, but one he disliked intensely. Yes, he saw the reasoning behind his exclusion. The Commander's behaviour had been, at best, reckless – and that one refuted the evidence, of course - and at worst, disloyal. All of it brought about by Keller, another piece in an increasingly difficult game of politics. Yes, her actions regarding Darling were audacious, and he held a grudging respect for that, despite an equally sincere irritation. Given the choice, he would prefer to maintain distance with the human, rather than deal with stirring perceptions of a more meaningful relationship. He resisted the idea of friendship, a state which could only lead to further trouble, which neither Guide nor Alabaster seemed to regard as dangerous.

Shaking his head, Bonewhite made an effort to dispel the thread which beat insistently in his brain. It went against everything he knew and understood. Humans could not be equal, they were food. At best, pets, and sometimes useful servants. Guide pushed the boundary too far with his response to the female. Emotional attachment of the sort he evinced was too... raw, too real, an abomination. Distaste filled him, and he lowered into his favourite seat, easing off his boots. 

Lost in contemplation, Bonewhite only sensed the woman when she moved to stand in front of him. “I have done as you requested, Lord.”

“The cleverman has been taken to see Dr. Keller?” Okamy bowed her acknowledgement, and he tipped his head as he considered her. 

"The Commander waits upon her," she added, and glanced down at the floor when Bonewhite bared teeth. “If I am of no further service...?”

He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Do not be in such a hurry to leave, Okamy.” Fear leached at him, and leaning forward, he pressed the matter. “I have other responsibilities for you.” Amused by the attempt to conceal how her hands shook as she gathered her wits, he added, “I need you to set out clean clothes, and run a bath.” 

“Yes, Lord,” she said, and hurried past to attend to the tasks. 

Picking his favourite die, Bonewhite tossed them idly across the table, and watched her through narrowed eyes as she bustled about. Everything seemed normal on the surface, but a chequered, undefended history said otherwise. Nor could the villagers vouch for her, or where she had come from. A healer, yes, unusual in a Worshippers village, and not from Meer'Cha. A little careful digging revealed she had come through the 'gate with the current Lady, but was regarded, even by that one, as an interloper. Alabaster had that nugget of information confirmed by a grateful mother. Which begged the question about who she was and where she came from?

Oh, he could take the more direct route to extract the information he wanted, torture her, even bend her to his will, but that lacked a certain amount of finesse. Too dangerous, as not all humans survived the process of conversion, particularly if he were to sustain feeding for any length of time, nor could it be guaranteed she had not been given the Hoffan drug. Besides, he did not want to kill her. He wanted data, and keeping her under close observation offered the best possibility to achieve that goal. Afraid as she was, her thoughts leaked tantalising glimpses of a far more interesting past than the one about which she spoke.

Vivid images fluttered his way, a planet not Meer'cha, people, but nothing he could grasp with any certainty. Leaning across the table, he collected the die, and shook them in his hand, contemplating her further. “Tell me, Okamy,” he said, gratified to see her falter, “how do you find your duties here?”

The question threw her off guard, and she hesitated while she brought herself under control. “My... duties, Lord... they... they -”

Coming to his feet, Bonewhite padded towards his bed, pulling off his thin under-shirt as he went, sensing her panic grow. Wadding it to a ball, he beckoned, and was not unsurprised when she stood stock still, sweat glinting on her forehead. “Come,” he demanded, and held out the shirt. Nervous, she took a step forward, and all but snatched the garment from his hand, still maintaining a wary distance. “I don't bite,” he growled, the points of his teeth showing. “Often.” 

She leapt back, but not quickly enough, and Bonewhite had her by the wrist, fast. A wash of fury, panic, guilt poured over the Hive Master, and Okamy dropped to her knees, tugged with all her strength to get away, but he only tightened his grip. Dragging her close, her eyes flickered over his torso, horror written in them, and he spun her so she was caught hard against his chest. Through the thin fabric of her flesh, her heart galloped, pounded against her ribs like bird taking flight. 

“No. No. Lord...” Fear quavered in the plea. “No... I beg... please...”

“What?” he whispered, mouth close to her ear. “Please do not kill me? Please do not...?” The answer crawled over him on a multitude of insect feet and, shocked, he relaxed his grip a little. “You believe I would force you against your will?” Revolted, on every level, he hissed. “Do you think us so debased, woman, that we would lower ourselves to such an act?”

“Wraith...”she spat, and struggled again, the salt of terror lent strength to her actions. “Wraith...”

“And you know nothing of us,” he snarled. “I would no more sully myself with one such as you, than you would consent to such an act.”

“Lies,” she spat, and screamed as he spun her so she fell onto the bed, and he came over her. A hand connected with the side of his head, but Bonewhite caught her, pinned her down by the shoulders, one knee holding her legs in place. Green eyes blazed at him, full of hatred. “Liar.”

“Tell me what I want to know,” he growled, and resisted her endeavours to get free, kicking and bucking, back lifting from the mattress in an effort to throw him off. Strong, but not strong enough, eventually Okamy grew quiet, exhausted. “Where are you from?”

Pushing at her mind, Bonewhite found layers past the simple past she had constructed, flimsy wisps taken singly, all neatly slotted together to present a gossamer shield, resilient as titanium. Complex, yet simple in design, Bonewhite rumbled at its complexity; he had not expected something so sophisticated, something which would take more than his small ability to disassemble. Taking some time, he traced along its edges, tested the seams that held it in place, pressed against it, aware that Okamy stared at him wide-eyed, seemingly unaware as he prodded indelicately into the corners of her mind.

Ceasing his attempts to penetrate her mind, Bonewhite met her gaze. “What did you feel?” Lips parted slightly, she stared at him, uncomprehending, her pupils dilated, and the iris a thin corona surrounding the black. “Answer me.” 

She snarled at him, features contorted with the desperate need of a cornered animal to flee, an inarticulate noise. Slipping back into the recesses of her thoughts, bewilderment and dismay pushed at him, but he batted them to the side and launched a probe, drilling into the filmy substance of the barrier. And met fire... it scorched along his nerve endings, a jolt of searing electric, blue-white heat that fried his neurones to black filaments. With a roar of pain, Bonewhite launched himself away from the woman, and grasped both sides of his head, while Okamy climbed further up the bed, gasping as she went. Hissing, pain clawing at him, Bonewhite groped blindly for Okamy's ankle, and seized it, clamped his fingers around her like a steel trap, and fought past the nausea. As soon as he could, he looked across at her, and dragged her back. Before the pain had become too much to bear, for the merest fraction of a second, a lean shape had shimmered into view. A glimpse only, tantalising in its brevity, of black hair and sculpted cheekbones that glimmered with reflected light, blazing yellow eyes. At last, Bonewhite put a name to Okamy's fear.

Not unused to Wraith. Too used to cruelty from a savage mistress to know that not all Wraith were the same. That some factions treated their Worshippers with kindness, and derived some pleasure from their company. But the image was still too vague for him to place this queen, only the lingering taste of her hate and ambition stayed with him.

“Who is your queen?” he rasped, and swung himself back to face the woman, coming over her like an eclipse. “What faction do you service, woman?” Clamping her jaws tight, Okamy stared at him, and Bonewhite knew, beyond any doubt he might have, that she would seek death rather than speak. “Then you leave me no choice.”

Okamy broke her silence, wariness clearly written on her face. “What do you mean?”

“Alabaster and Guide will question you.”

~xxXXxx~

Glyphs tumbled down the screen, along with numerous diagrams, all carefully catalogued, highlighted, with notations written next to the results with the most promise. And there were more of those than he hoped. Encouraged, Guide flicked the screen to expand the view, focussed on a particular genome that seemed to have all the resilience they looked for. If this data could be replicated easily, then the markers these individuals displayed would mean the retrovirus could certainly become very effective indeed. Less pain for any human concerned, as well as conferring continued benefits for Wraith. 

A slight variance in the details of one attracted his attention.“Jennifer, sample twenty-five's results have yet to finalise?” 

She reached across and made an adjustment to one of the readings. “A day or so for the simulations to complete, then Sprint will correlate it so we'll have a clearer picture. Should be able to replicate the results easily enough.”

“Hmmm... the population of Meer'Cha have produced unexpected adaptations to the enzyme,” he remarked, after further reading. “I did not anticipate this outcome at all.”

“Makes good sense,” Jennifer mused, and gave an eloquent shrug of her slim shoulders. “Isolated populations driven to evolve into a niche by external environmental factors over a few thousand years. Like Wraith, for example. Seems pretty straight forward to me.” White flashed when she caught the side of her lip with her teeth, and glanced up at him when he grunted an acknowledgement, obvious amusement on her face. “It's the Galapagos Islands all over again, Darwin.” 

“Darwin? Galapagos Islands?” Certain she teased him, Guide gave a mock growl. “These have a significance about which I know nothing and care about less.”

Jennifer grinned at his attempt to cow her, and leaned on him instead.“My, aren't we bad tempered this morning?”

Tightening his off hand on her waist, he snorted. “I am never bad tempered, my dear, though I cannot ascertain what your mood might be, as yet.”

“Funny. And I think you'll find you aren't, in the same way Rodney isn't smug,” she murmured, a smile flowering.

“I think you'll find Dr. McKay is always certain of his own good opinion,” Guide remarked, mildly, and huffed. “I fear I must leave you for there is work to do.” As soon as he let her go, Jennifer hopped over to her bed, and collected her crutches, grabbing a bag from the chair at its side. “Where are you going?”

“The lab with you,” she said. Hope, disguised by a thin, defiant veneer, drilled through him when she met his gaze. “Did you really think I would stay here?”

“Why would I suppose that, my dear?” he asked. Gratified when her cheeks flared pink, he scrutinised her closely. Chin lifted, Jennifer had a belligerent light in her eyes, and he see-sawed with indecision. Recovery from her injuries was in everyone's best interests, but Guide could recognise obstinacy when he saw it, as he had an abundance of that quality himself. Leaving her in her quarters was only an option if he had her guarded, and he did not want to take that route unless he had to, but also, without adequate supervision, and with escalating boredom, the opportunities to embroil herself in situations which were not her concern increased. Again. Exasperated, amused, resigned, Guide shook his mane, and bared teeth. “Come then. But you will rest when I tell you.”

“It's a plan,” she said, and limped through the door as fast as she could with him hot on her heels. 

“Jennifer, I am resolute in this. You will not disregard me on this matter.” A muffled grunt met his statement, and Guide took her arm, drawing her to a halt. “If you do, then I will send you back under guard and post them outside your quarters so you will be unable to go anywhere on the hive.”

“Okay, okay...” she said, and scowled when she realised he would not go a centimetre further until she complied. “I get the message. All right, rest.... yeah, I promise.”

Guide stared hard at her, and she shifted under his searching look. “Be certain you do.”

“Didn't I just say so?”

“Yes,” he agreed, unconvinced, watched her through narrowed eyes. “Though your record regarding such matters does not fill me with any great certainty.” At least, he noted, she had the grace to appear embarrassed. “Your... ill-advised escapade drew a great deal of unwanted attention, and placed us in danger.” Mouth tight, Jennifer glared, but said nothing, and Guide steered her sedately towards the nearest transport. “Despite,” he added, even though the point galled him hugely, “a most beneficial outcome .”

“Thanks,” she said, deeply sarcastic, as they moved off.

Her reluctance to discuss the matter any further clear, Guide started to deconstruct the results of the last batch of experiments. Everything indicated success, and while it might be too early to celebrate, he believed the major part of their work could be finalised in a shorter time than he previously imagined. Which brought him to another point. What now?

Would she go back to Atlantis and her life on earth? To Quicksilver? Doctor Rodney McKay? The name felt sour in his mouth, despite his respect for the physicist. No doubt she should, but could he let her? Warnings, concerns, all valid, pounded to dust every concern about the experimental outcome, its effects, and instead the hindrances arising from his... their actions, he amended, oozed into place, insidious as poison. Guide slid a glance at Jennifer, and she peeked up at him, a crease appearing between her brows. 

“What's the matter?” Annoyance coloured her voice, as if she knew the direction of his thoughts. “Still want to kick my butt about Darling?”

“No,” he said, abrupt with pretended indifference. “You will leave once we are finished.” 

Mute, they continued to walk, Jennifer focused on the progress of her feet over the ground, and then she murmured, “I... it... depends.”

“On?” He did not mean to sound sharp, but he knew he did.

“Who... whatever there is to stay for.” Jennifer's doubt punched through other emotions seeping towards him, took him by surprise. “Whether... if I'm... needed?”

“Needed?” When they stepped into the transporter, Guide turned her so she faced him, but she refused to look at him, and focused on his chest. Light wrapped round them and deposited them at the laboratory level, an uncomfortable empty space where conversation should take place. Refusing to budge a centimetre forced her head to tilt back so he could look into her eyes. “Always.”

“Always?” she wondered, and searched him, light illuminating her skin to icy blue. “If I stayed would it really benefit human and Wraith?”

Guide gave a dismissive snort, still fixed on her features. “I believe it would.” Placing his hand over hers, he leant down, murmured softly, emphatically, “There is much to be said of our kinship, little one, and even more of the possibilities that exist between Wraith and human. More than slave, or servant or food. More than friends...”

Shyness softened her for a second but then doubt cast a shadow, and she glanced away. “Only if others wanted it, too.” 

“Then that is one more reason for you to stay.” He did not add 'with me'; he could not bear to. “To show them there is a path both may follow.”

“There are other reasons,” she said, open as the petals on a bloom, honest, as they shifted into the deeper shadows together, a dance of souls. 

And that small statement offered comfort, so Guide drew what he could from it, hope taking flight on the lightest of wings. If she would remain, nothing was impossible, all his hopes could be accomplished, become real, be a future for all. When her fingers closed round his, he did not resist and claimed the kiss she offered. Heat and lust threatened, consuming, and he hardened, feeding hand questing under the thin material of her shirt to caress fine contours beneath, pulled her small frame against his own. Reciprocal desire and warmth, a sweet tenderness he did not dare name, streamed into Guide's awareness. Wrong yet right, delicious, the taste of her like honey against his tongue, the alien tang of her blood when he nipped her flesh... Not Wraith. Not Snow. But his, all the same. Lost, time slowed to the beat of a heart, the thrum of blood through veins, the scent of life beneath his handmouth. 

Breaking the kiss wrenched at his guts, and he hissed, came away while she clutched, boneless, at his coat. A temptress hung in his arms, mouth swollen, eyes so deep he could drown there. “Little one,” he whispered, a purr in his throat. “Stay.”

She pressed against him in answer, slim fingers knotted into the heavy snarls of his hair. “Yes.”


	15. Chapter 15

Limp as seaweed, the woman hung between two drones, her head lolling on a boneless neck. Shallow breathing lifted her ribcage, and stirred the thin shift on her frame, as a drop of sweat fell, and glistened as it hit the floor to break apart. Glossed with moisture, her skin reflected the light, sharpened every bone, every dip of her flesh, but she remained obstinately silent, a living statue.

Frustrated, Alabaster circled the Worshipper, her own mind shredded from her attempt to prise apart the barriers in Okamy's mind. Masterful, complex, clever, she doubted if she could do more than unravel the first few layers. It required the help from a far more proficient hand than hers, and she chafed at the idea Guide might supply the skill she could not. He was a blade after all, even if he did have unusual ability. At that moment, Alabaster wished for her sister... for Steelflower, with her mind of metal.

 _~We cannot continue,~_ Bonewhite murmured, his voice reasonable as always, but when Alabaster held up a hand to stop him speaking further, he ignored her. _~We may damage her beyond our ability to heal, my queen.~_

 _~I am aware of that, Hive Master,~_ she snapped, and glared at him. He had the good grace to offer her a small bow, but he did not drop his gaze. Baring teeth, she said, _~So what do you suggest, precisely?~_

_~We must wait for Guide, Lady. He has experience you - ~_

_~No doubt.~_ The ill-timed reminder grated on Alabaster, exacerbated by a distinct irritation flowing towards her, which he dampened quickly, cool disregard in its place. As if he waited, still, for her to prove her worth. These men were queen-less and under the sole influence of her father far too long for her liking. Plus, it seemed not all Wraith would follow blindly or honour her simply because of her sex. _~ Could Jennifer be of assistance?~_

Surprised by the question, Bonewhite offered a doubtful, _~Possibly.~_

Alabaster tipped her head, tracing a line over the Worshipper's features, and took a step forward so she could catch her chin in her fingers. Beneath her fingertips, the Worshipper's flesh was cool, slick, eyes rolling in her head. _~Bring me water.~_

A flurry of movement told her a drone had leapt into action and he reappeared at her side with a brimming beaker firmly clasped in his hand. Taking it from him, Alabaster dabbled her fingers into the liquid and drew them over the Okamy's lips. The Worshipper sucked them up, her tongue lapping every last drop but then it seemed she recalled where she was, raised her head, jerked away from Alabaster's hand.

"Okamy -" Alabaster bent close so her mouth sat next to her ear - "you should drink. It pains me to see you so." That was a truth. Alabaster never saw the need to treat humans cruelly, and refused to take that path. Revulsion shivered though her at the thought. She owed them too much. She owed them Darling's life as well as her own. "Come... we do not seek to destroy you. We need your help." Pale eyes, glazed with pain, stared dully back at her, distrust, loathing and desperation flickering in their depths, but she lowered her head to the cup. While Okamy drank more, Alabaster directed a query at the Hive Master. _~Where is Guide?~_

Bonewhite grunted, his mood swinging into disquiet, which Alabaster could not help but sympathise even if her own thoughts on the matter ran at variance to his. In his own time, the Hive Master would realise humans were equals in every sense. _~On his way,~_ he said.

_~You do not believe she should be here?~_

He shrugged, his hair sliding over his back and shoulders in time with the movement. _~ Whether I do or not has no bearing on this matter. What is at stake is our alliance – fragile enough without the interference of another queen.~_

At least they could agree about this one thing – and it certainly was not the right time to debate the niceties or lack thereof surrounding Jennifer's inclusion. _~ But who?~_

 _~I do not know.~_ They shared a glance, and the Hive Master's eyes slid away from her in thought. _~ Her mind signature is not one with which I am familiar.~_

_~Yet you believe Guide will recognise this queen?~_

He shrugged again. _~He has known many, knew many more lost in the wars ...~_

An oblique reference to Guide's age, which served them well enough. Her sire recalled so much of their past, things forgotten since the days of the great war with the Ancients, that his worth could not be doubted. Valuable information resided somewhere in his vast memory, which might just pinpoint the alliance demanding Okamy's loyalty. Frustrated by the delay his absence fostered, Alabaster searched for him.

A quick hunt located him already close to the chamber, the crystalline ruthlessness she knew so well uppermost, his certainty of purpose unassailable. Except... she sensed warmth, even tenderness, the quality of his mind less hard, less inflexible, the gaping wound he hid so well no longer raw as if something once more gave meaning to him. She wondered at it, and made a tentative attempt at exploration of the development, acknowledged by his slamming shut any gap she might have breached. A needle of greeting followed in its wake, cool, but firm, a tone all too familiar from her childhood. More than a little peeved, Alabaster resisted the temptation to probe more deeply, but settled on allowing him some privacy. Extending outwards, she found Jennifer and Sprint came with him, the cleverman unexpected, their energies as familiar as Guide's. Sprint's thoughts, whatever they involved, were blanketed, his mind appeared vacuous as an infant's.

 _~Seat her,~_ she said, and the drones moved Okamy back onto one of the benches, leaving her to fold over, head in her lap. At the hiss of the doors opening, Alabaster spun on her heel to face the little group as they filed through. For Jennifer's benefit, she lapsed into English, ignoring the cleverman's hurried bow. "You took your time."

Guide strode over to the seat, and hunkered down to Okamy's level, scanning the Worshipper intently. "You failed to inform me you would begin so soon." Keller limped to join him, already frowning with concern. "I would have preferred to be present before you began."

Stung, Alabaster began a retort but stopped when Jennifer interrupted. "Have you... tortured her?"

"No." Alabaster's denial was firm. "I would not." Both her sire and Jennifer gazed at her then, relief in the human's face, and something less readable in Guide's. "Even so..." She gave a shrug, scanned them both in turn. "The barrier placed in her mind is practically impenetrable."

"There is always a way," Guide murmured, mildly, and earned a narrow look from Keller. "Perhaps with medical intervention her resistance could be lowered, make a breach easier?"

"Is that why you brought me?" Jennifer asked, and turned back to her fellow human. "In case I have something in my bag of tricks to help you probe her mind?" All semblance of uncertainty disappeared from her, and she adopted the mien Alabaster recognised as physician and scientist while she scanned the woman. "I suppose you want something less intrusive than full on mental assault, or... conversion and addiction?"

"Can you do that?" Alabaster said, not bothering to hide her only real interest was the end result, and barely contained the eager note in her voice. "If we could prevent damage to her, it would allow her to continue to spy without alerting the other queen." Almost regretful, she added, "We need her to remain effective, so any tampering has to remain as unobtrusive as possible."

"It would benefit our Alliance," Bonewhite rumbled, and rested his off hand on the back of the chair as he leant in to make an appeal. "We cannot allow some other queen to undo our progress."

"I wasn't so certain," Jennifer said, her chin lifted in defiance, her implication clear to everyone, "that you were completely on board with the idea, Hive Master?" Behind her, Sprint braced himself, while Guide choked down a snort of laughter. "Has something changed?"

A flicker of irritation played over Bonewhite's features, but he met Jennifer's challenge equitably. "I am well able to see you work for the good of both Wraith and human," he said, and she coloured faintly. "I hope you will understand my initial suspicions are based on lengthy experience -" the Wraith paused, obvious reluctance in his voice - "and certain assumptions which, I admit, were ill advised." Offering her a small bow, he added, "With good reason, I believed your grounds were more closely aligned to those of Atlantis, and Earth."

Unspoken, his disapproval of her involvement with Guide hung between them, and that one hooded his eyes as he observed them both. Very shortly, the subject would open for debate between her father and the Hive Master, of that Alabaster had no doubt. Bonewhite knew Guide too well, for a long time, and followed his leadership loyally, but reserved the right to challenge choices should he need to.

"My agenda has never been anything apart from making the galaxy a better place for us all," Jennifer said, and they measured each other.

"Well, this is pleasant, " Guide said, interrupting the moment, a thin smile on his face. "Now we all understand each other so much better we can concern ourselves with our little problem."

"To reiterate..." Alabaster interjected, dispelling the tension her sire conjured so readily, "Jennifer, do you have a means to allow us to question Okamy without alerting her Lady?" She appealed to her directly. "I assure you that if there was an alternative...?"

The human woman's mouth twitched, but she offered a possibility, albeit with reluctance. "A truth serum?" At Alabaster's slow nod, Jennifer shook her head. "No, but it might be possible to synthesise something, maybe a psychotropic that will break down her resistance."

"If I might offer a suggestion," a soft voice said, and they all focussed on Sprint.

"Yes, cleverman?" Guide cocked his head as he drew up to his full height and loomed over the rest of the room.

"There is already a drug Dr. Keller could adapt without the necessity for lengthy laboratory work." Under the weight of their complete attention, Sprint squirmed. "My hive... my birth hive," he corrected, a little self-consciously, "developed a method to use on enemy blades."

"What does this have to do with our problem, because this is not your birth hive," the Hive Master growled, and pinned him with a yellow blaze.

The cleverman spread his hands in supplication and appeal."I brought data crystals... all I could save before it was destroyed." Sprint rushed on, as if afraid he would be stopped from speaking. "It isn't complete. There are gaps in the data, but..."

"You'll have to show me," Jennifer said, dark eyes searching the young Wraith, and turned then to Alabaster. "Maybe this could save us a lot of work."

Guide's deep voice broke over the room, his question directed at Sprint."Interesting. Why?"

"We were small -" the cleverman sounded apologetic, as though this was a personal failing, an undercurrent of worry filtering to the top of his thoughts - "and our queen needed men."

Alabaster made a mental note to find out more about the hive Sprint came from and what sort of queen could not command the interest of her men, or gather others to her? A renegade ship, perhaps - one of those fallen into legend? Memories stirred from childhood, and she recalled Guide telling her stories while she sat in his lap waiting for sleep. Turncoats who banded against the will of the many, fought instead to remain independent from the rest of Wraith society, preferred isolation and their own company, that they refused to aid others during the war... the list went on. Speculation, or mere fable? Neither, both? Doubt existed as to whether any of the tales were true, and she placed her curiosity firmly to the back of her mind. No, there was a sensible reason behind any such decision.

"Well," Jennifer said, unaware of the tension or its reason, "I suppose we need to get on with it." Worry creased her brow, and then she blurted, "You really won't hurt her, will you?"

Guide inclined his head. "You have my word, Jennifer."

And there... again. Between them, something intangible, finer than gossamer, a silken thread of deeper understanding. More than affection, deeper than regard. Alabaster stared at her father, who shifted under her sudden realisation, his mind locked down firmly. Her attention passed back to Jennifer, who was checking Okamy physically and talking of an induced medical coma.

"...if I medicate her now, then she won't remember anything about what happens, or has happened. It'll make whatever you're going to do easier."

"I hope that much will be true, my dear," Guide murmured, and snapped an order out to the drones, who picked Okamy up and placed her on the bench so she lay on her back. Bending over her, he peeled back an eyelid, and grunted. "She is very nearly unconscious, Jennifer. I do not think you need to medicate her too deeply."

"No," she agreed. "She's already pretty stressed from whatever's been done to her."

"The barrier placed in her mind is... challenging," Alabaster admitted, and projected everything she had gleaned at Guide. Pale skin, dark hair, burning yellow eyes, and a sense of sand baked to glass in a nuclear furnace. _~Do you know her?~_

"That is unavoidable," Guide said, in response to Jennifer's accusatory tone. _~I need to examine her for myself, daughter.~_

Bonewhite added, _~Perhaps it is something we should attempt together, Guide?~_

_~Probably,~_ he agreed, readily enough, and joined Alabaster in examining the woman splayed on the bench. Her breathing remained steady as he probed the bounds of the obstruction, skirting its edges. _~A remarkable piece of work.~_

A cough interrupted their perusal. "Do you need me here right now?" Dark eyes fixed on Guide first then Alabaster and Bonewhite. "I guess you don't or you'd be talking to me instead of each other." 

"Do you have sedatives with you?" Guide ignored the comment, but Alabaster did not overlook his hand covering Keller's in reassurance for the briefest moment, a movement missed by Bonewhite, but not, she observed, Sprint. The cleverman's features closed, and Alabaster detected... concern. The fear of a cleverman for a queen. Aware of her scrutiny, he met her eyes, and directed a diaphanous stream at her... 

_~No good can come of this, my Lady.~_

_~I am not so certain,~ she replied. ~Once I would have agreed, but now...~_

"Not here, no," Jennifer replied, and Alabaster glimpsed her soul, for a moment, as it shone in her aura. "There's some at the laboratory." 

"Then Sprint will escort you there, and you will take your rest, Jennifer." 

"I want to come back." 

"Not this time," Guide growled and signalled to Sprint, who bowed and offered Jennifer his arm. "I insist." 

"I think that is a wise course," Alabaster agreed, and though Keller looked mulish, she also knew that on this occasion she would obey. "Sprint will stay with you, and a drone will carry the sedative here." 

"Besides," Guide purred, and this time he did not hide the gesture, but took her hand and bowed over it, "after you have rested, we will need you to adjust the drug Sprint has mentioned. If you are more alert, then there is less likelihood of error." 

"Yeah, that's the way to persuade me this is the right thing to do." Obviously struggling with her conscience, she eyed Sprint's arm like it would bite. "Have I mentioned I'm not happy about this?" 

Tightening his fingers slightly, Guide was serious when he next spoke. "Fair One, if this queen continues to undermine our project then the peace we hope for will be further in the future. We cannot allow such a measure." 

Alabaster added her own voice. "Jennifer, I understand your reticence, but if we can affect the course of our plans positively, through the use of drugs rather than force, surely it is preferable than to see yet more conflict?" For a second, Keller remained silent, but she gave a nod, and Guide released her. "Fair One," Alabaster said, "you have my thanks." 

"Don't thank me yet," Keller said, and headed through the door. "You haven't got the meds." 

~xxXXxx~ 

On reaching the laboratory, Sprint directed the drones to wait at the exit, and followed Jennifer into the room. At one of the benches, he leant over a terminal and began to punch in the sequences that would deliver the latest batch of results for collation. Once that finished he would retrieve the crystals from his quarters, and they could synthesize the new drug. While the machines hummed into action, he weighed up how to broach a rather tricky subject. 

Not that he could object. Not really. After all, he had observed the growth of what looked like friendship into something far more substantial, and he could not claim immunity from the Fair One, either. Sprint examined his own emotions carefully, the bothersome, nagging, pinching conflict of interest in particular. Alabaster, for whom he would gladly die, and Jennifer... she who demanded his fealty, despite being no Wraith queen, but yet he could not deny his own response. He slid a glance at her from the corner of his eye, and gave a little huff of aggravation. Involvement with his queen's sire complicated matters exponentially even if Alabaster did see something to benefit them all. 

The calm surface of his previous acceptance frothed like an angry sea, boiling guts and brain, and he clenched his fingers tight, shattering the test tube he held into tiny, sparkling fragments. Blood seeped through his fist and dripped, thick as oil, onto the table top. Hissing, he dropped the shards, and shook out his hand, the tiny cuts already healing, only a smear of blood to show for the injury. 

"Let me see that." Sprint bared teeth at Jennifer, which she ignored, and took his hand, spreading the palm to check it. Poking at the skin, she ran her thumb over a knotty lump. "There's a glass fragment in there, which you'll have to get out." 

"It will work out eventually," he said, and pulled away, flexing his fingers. 

"Which?" she asked, head cocked. "The retrovirus, the... the process Okamy's about to undergo or, me and Guide?" The cleverman sucked back a breath, and considered her. "What? You don't think I've noticed all those weird looks between you all?" 

"I -" 

"Oh please." Jennifer waved any comment he had been about to utter away, and hopped round so she could lean up against the bench. "Just spit it out, will you? I thought we'd managed to come to some kind of understanding." 

"We have," he assured her. "More than an agreement, Jennifer." 

"So what's the problem? It's not as if we're waving it round under peoples noses, or making a big deal." 

"It is, though, Fair One. To use your term, it is a very big deal." 

"I don't see why it's anybody's business but ours. We're adult." 

"You are human, and he is the co-leader of an important alliance and faction, lady." There. It launched out of his mouth with no hesitancy at all. Jennifer's face went stony, so Sprint gripped her wrist, off hand curled round her fragile bones. "How can you expect him to command any respect amongst Wraith if he is... if you are... entangled?" Something fluttered in her; he sensed it, saw it briefly settle over her features until she looked away. The rawness of it. 

"So that's it," she muttered, and her voice scratched, wavered. "I'm not good enough for anything except a pet – never an equal." 

"Yes, equal -" and she looked at him, honey-gold hair spilling around her shoulders - "to any I have ever met, and I believe Alabaster considers you more than simply an ally. Many of the Wraith of this hive accept you too, but others will not, and that is where the danger lies. For both of you." 

"Do you think I don't know that, that he doesn't?" The words were vehement. "Neither of us are stupid." 

"And yet..." Releasing his hand, Sprint turned back to the terminal as it hummed its last piece of information out onto a sheet. "You have taken this path." Paper in hand, he added it to the neat pile by its side, ready for later perusal. "He should not have taken this path." 

"He didn't want to." Jennifer hung her head, and sadness washed over Sprint. "I didn't want to." 

"Then why?" 

Her head snapped up and she glared at him. "Tell me, cleverman, how you feel about Alabaster, and when you started to feel that way?" 

"That is different, Jennifer," Sprint protested. He opened his palms. "It is my nature to follow a queen, to become her man." 

"Guide can choose otherwise." 

"Yes. He is a blade and old," Sprint said, equally forceful. "He can choose his own path, and has for many years. It is not so easy for me." 

"So it would seem," Jennifer said, and her eyes glittered. 

"Lady," Sprint said, and put as much appeal into the words as he knew how, "you are the first human I have ever known, and you are responsible for changing my views." He bowed, every iota of respect poured into it, his feeding hand on his heart. "I honour you for that, and for your friendship." 

"But...?" 

"It would be remiss of me, your cleverman, if I did not warn you of the inherent dangers in the path you take." 

"Preaching to the choir," she said, and though the idiom was lost on him, he gathered its meaning. Sighing, she focussed on the far wall, searching the struts, the shape of the hull, as if she could read an answer in their structure. "He's lonely." The assessment surprised him to silence, so he waited for her to say more. "So am I." 

"That is not your only reason, is it?" he asked, and Jennifer shook her head. 

"No... it's more," she whispered, and closed her eyes. Then she snapped, almost barked the next words. "Damn, I fought this, Sprint. Fought it every step of the way, tried to avoid him, recall what he is, what you are." A wild look settled over her, but Sprint remained quiet. "He makes me furious, and he's arrogant, difficult, challenging... I should loathe him, but I don't." Catching his gaze, she said, softly, "I can't explain it." 

He caught a glimpse of her emotions, how they struggled, roiled over and against each other, and compared them to what he sensed in Guide, though that one concealed things much better. Yes, both were confused, did not know where the journey would take them, but there, at the core, strands of affinity, understanding, and a blaze of passion. Briefly, he saw Guide through her eyes. How she traced the lines of his shoulders, the way his hair fell down his back, the starburst tattoo, the sharp lines of his face, and she thought him handsome. He made her heart beat faster, and her breath catch. 

"Do you love him?" he asked, at last. 

"Love him?" she repeated, and hugged herself, distant as she considered his question. 

"Yes..." 

Thoughtful, she said, carefully, "I thought I loved Rodney. I thought we would be together, raise a family but..." She hunched up, curled in on herself, and then pinned a sharp look on him before she gave a wry laugh. "Guide... love and Guide are thought-provoking concepts in the same sentence." 

A sentiment Sprint could only agree with, but he cocked his head, interested in her insight. When she did not continue, he growled. He wanted to pursue the subject, but every brain cell fired and told him such a course would result a backlash he had no desire to face. Such was a cleverman's lot, he told himself, to ever advise and support, but listened to rarely. All he could do was hope Jennifer would take into account his concerns and act on them to keep herself safe. 

"I will collect the crystals," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "Bring them back here to begin work." 

"Yes," she said, relief plain in her voice. "I'll just give the syringes to the drones and they can be on their way." 


	16. Chapter 16

Even after lengthy rumination Guide found himself frustrated, and he stared at nothing in particular while he reached absently for the dice on the table beside his seat. They rolled round his hand while he continued to think, the patina of many years worn into the grain of the bone. Nothing they did, either in unison, or with the aid of the drugs Jennifer synthesized, revealed more than a vague suggestion of where they might find the opposition. He added up the few facts they had, and came to a regretful conclusion. They knew practically nothing. An unknown queen... A lost faction standing against them and their plans. The woman came to Meer'cha via a convoluted route, and it would take time to trace the path – if at all possible. Time he did not want to waste.

_~Release her as soon as the transponder operation site has healed,~_ he said, and threw the dice, head slanted as he watched them tumble on the polished surface. A one and six.

_~And hope she disseminates the information?~_

_~Of course.~_ A corner of Guide's mouth twisted, and he glanced up from under his eye ridges at the Hive Master. _~ It would be a waste of very fine work if we did not expect to see results.~_ He gathered the dice again, and then placed them neatly on the table, one with the human face uppermost, alongside a ten. _~I feel certain she will prove most effective at her task.~_

Bonewhite gave a grunt, and sat across from Guide, his ankles crossed, and fingers knitted loosely on his thighs. Outside, the blues and purples of hyperspace flickered, filled the room with flame, and reflected in his yellow eyes while he scrutinised Guide. _~There is another issue.~_

_~And what might that be, Hive Master?~_ Cold, Guide returned the stare measure for measure, mood frayed, resistant.

_~Do I really need to voice our concerns, Commander?~_ Bonewhite asked, and he reached then for the bottle of wine, pouring it, thick, red and pungent with ripe fruit, into goblets. Leaving one glass on the table, he took a sip and savoured it.

_~Our?~_

_~Surely you cannot believe it is just I that bring this issue to your attention?~_

_~No,~_ Guide said, and bared teeth. _~This is a subject we have discussed before, and as such I fail to see what use it is to regurgitate an agenda in which I have no interest.~_ When Bonewhite did not respond, he added, _~So, I gather our queen is in agreement with the council?~_ The Hive Master continued to swirl the goblet, his mouth thin. Surprised, Guide lifted his brow ridges. _~She does not or is conflicted?~_

_~She... appears to have had a change of heart.~_

_~So why are you here instead of discussing it with Alabaster.~_

The other hissed with annoyance. _~Your get is as intractable as you.~_

Guide chuckled, remembering Alabaster as a child, her wild red hair, torn clothes when she and one or other of her playmates got into trouble after scaling rocks and trees. How unashamed, even in the face of Snow's anger, and his own, if he recalled correctly. And Darling, so like his mother. So like himself, he acknowledged, and reflected briefly on his youth. However, if Bonewhite thought to insult him, then he would have to try somewhat harder.

_~An excellent vintage, I think you will agree,~_ he said, and reached for the other goblet, savouring a mouthful of the liquid so he fully appreciated its roundness of flavour. Bonewhite chafed at his avoidance, and Guide took a perverse pleasure in the knowledge. _~One I am certain Dr. Keller will enjoy.~_ The door slid open as he spoke, and Guide waved his human servant to place the dishes by his side for inspection. Leaning forward, he indicated a fragrant bowl that steamed gently, all manner of vegetables gleaming in a rich orange sauce. _~Meroc tells me this is regarded as quite a delicacy, Hive Master.~_

_~Meroc would tell you the sky was green if it saved him from the hold.~_ Bonewhite scowled, but leant forward and sniffed. _~It appears pleasing, but pointless.~_

_~Hardly.~_

_~So your intention is to continue with this fiasco, irrespective of the judgement of the council?~_

_~This has nothing to do with any decision the council will make in respect of the alliance or the ongoing work with our Worshippers.~_

_~Your leadership is falling into doubt, Guide.~_

_~Is it?~_ Guide examined the dish of fruit Meroc held in front of him, and waved the man away. The human picked up his pace, obviously keen to get away from an atmosphere that thickened by the minute. _~When Alabaster chooses a Consort, I will become her adviser. Until such time, I am Commander.~_ He cocked his head. _~Unless you are here inform me about a possible mutiny, or wish to challenge me?~_

The Hive Master made an exasperated noise. _~No.~_

_~Is someone in her favour?~_

Bonewhite gave a brief nod. _~Wintersong and Sable... possibly Ember.~_

That news startled Guide, and he glanced over to the other Wraith. _~Really?~_ He gave a little bark of laughter, and took the final dish from Meroc, placing it beside the others. Bowing, the man stood at the side of the table, waiting to be dismissed. _~Yes, go.~_

_~Do not think to change the subject, Guide,~_ Bonewhite said, and allowed curiosity to overcome his natural reticence to examine the food more closely. He selected a small piece of the sweet white flesh Guide knew was a childhood favourite, and settled back in the seat. _~It is imperative you remain a plausible leader and this problem - ~_

_~Problem?~_ This time, Guide did not bother to hide his anger, and he snarled. _~There is no problem. Whatever is happening is conducted in a proper manner and no one outside of the immediate council will hear of it. Unless, of course, there is a traitor, one you are aware of. Perhaps it is you, Hive Master?~_

_~I admit to a struggle,~_ Bonewhite said, unperturbed by the show of temper. _~If you used her simply as a means to an end, I would understand better, but you are sincere.~_

_~And that appals you?~_ Guide gave a harsh laugh. _~It may surprise you to know that it shocks me too.~_

_~Then why so implacable?~_ The Hive Master pushed on, disregarding everything other than his single point of interest.

_~Why should I discuss this with you when I have never shared the loss of my Queen with any man on this ship?~_ Troubled, Guide rose to his feet and paced the length of his quarters, before halting at the window. _~You ask too much.... ~_ he said, voice hoarse with outrage as he struggled to control the twist in his withered stomach. _~It is what it is, Hive Master. Question me no more.~_

What answer could he give? What could possibly satisfy the other? Dwelling on Snow made the ache inside him open like a rotting tooth, and he would not and could not continue that way. Under no circumstance would he be defined by grief, or become as twisted as Dust. Not when a chance for true attachment, deep understanding and passion could be his with so little effort.

_~Never-the-less,~_ Bonewhite persisted, _~you cannot deny it could severely hamper our efforts.~_

Guide turned, coat tails swinging with the suddenness of movement. _~If the council and my daughter can hold their collective tongues then this is a moot point unless, and I repeat, you know of someone who would betray our alliance in order to seize power for himself?~_

_~None,~_ Bonewhite said, but still Guide could see how he struggled to accept the concept. _~Not now we know the treatment works, and works well, even without the adjustments that allow Wraith and human to benefit symbiotically.~_

_~Well then...?~_ Guide said, and waited.

_~But if they should hear... If one of those should become suspicious?~_

_~Is Waterlight aware?~_

This stopped the Hive Master for a second while he considered the question. _~She has a sympathy for humans, it is true,~_ he said, slowly. _~She is as determined as Alabaster to ensure all Worshippers are inoculated as soon as possible, but whether she has pursued the outcome to such a conclusion is unlikely.~_

_~Youth.~_ Guide allowed himself a small laugh, and Bonewhite nodded in agreement.

_~It is true they often overlook the long term effects of decisions.~_

Guide drummed his fingers against his thigh. _~I return to my point, Hive Master... If my association with the Fair One troubles nothing in our plans, why is it an issue with the council when even their Queen has seen fit to overlook it?~_ He already knew the answer; Guide wanted Bonewhite to admit to his own revulsion. Only then might he come to terms with what would be, in the years to come, an outmoded attitude. Yes, he struggled daily with what his society deemed unnatural, distancing themselves from their cousins as they had over the millennia in an attempt to forget that they too had once been human. Exposure to the people of Earth, and Atlantis wrecked any chance of that, he reflected. _~Well?~_

_~I have no answer, Commander,~_ Bonewhite said, obviously discomforted, and did not seem able to find anything further to say because he directed his attention to the fruit in his fingers, and took an experimental bite.

Guide growled. _~If you have nothing to show me other than your own prejudice, you may leave.~_

_~Not before I suggest you consider this carefully, Commander.~_ Head tilted, Guide stared hard at him. _~ If you care not for the issues I have already raised, then perhaps the safety and well being of the Fair One should be your priority? As you pointed out, on many occasions, without her, none of this would have happened.~_

~xxXXxx~

Repercussions? In all likelihood. Sprint knew the revelation of a drug to brainwash blades to compliance did not score many points for him, and whilst he did not believe his mother queen should ever have employed those methods, the fact remained the drug existed. The success of the new variant was key in this endeavour. If Okamy 'delivered the goods', as Jennifer said, then all his concerns would shrink to nothing, and nervousness aside, the cleverman had every confidence in the tool he and Keller had developed. Fingers tightening about the tablet he carried, he turned into the hallway leading to the queen's quarters, where two of Alabaster's favourite human guards eyed him with the all the malevolence Sprint gave vermin. Teeth gritted, he refused to care about their opinion, whatever it was. Other than that, any clue about Alabaster's feelings or the prevailing mood of the council was not forthcoming.

Sprint straightened his shoulders, and stepped up to the guards. "I am expected."

The taller of the two, a hulking, bronzed creature, merely nodded, but they stood aside to allow him through. Swallowing, the cleverman stepped across the threshold and walked towards the throne where a few members of the council clustered. Sable leaned forward, his eyes on a level with Alabaster's, but none of them acknowledged him. On a dispassionate level, Sprint knew an attempt to unnerve him when he saw one, and it worked well. Very well. He gritted his teeth and waited for them to notice him.

After an interminable pause, Wintersong beckoned him forwards, but Sprint kept his eyes locked on Alabaster though he continued to cautiously examine Sable from the corner of his eye. Of all the blades in the council vying for the Queen's attention, this man had the most experience, as well as the best chance at Consort. The outsider, Burn, though he continued to press his suit, had left not long ago, driven to prove his worth in a dangerous mission. Leaning against the arm of her throne, Alabaster rested her chin in her off hand, yellow eyes narrow, braided red hair spilling like flame down her shoulder, a contrast against the stark grey of her dress, an affectation of the world where she spent so many years. No beauty, true, not in the way of Steelflower, or his mother, but her slender face was mobile, humorous, and she took his breath away with her slim, tall figure. A smile glimmered at the corner of her mouth, crooked, highlighting her similarity to her sire, one that also acknowledged his worship.

_~Well, cleverman,~_ she husked, and shooed the two blades hovering at her side, _~I believe you have something to tell me?~_

_~Lady...?~_

_~Come now. Not so modest, Sprint. Your work with Dr. Keller is excellent, and - ~_ she flicked her fingers, which caused a handmaiden to scurry out of the shadows with a wrap that she placed round her shoulders - _~you have my thanks for rescuing Darling.~_ She tipped her head, and light danced in the pretty shell ornaments her suitors brought for her. _~So tell me about your hive?~_

Bowing, Sprint fumbled with the tablet for a moment, and then extended it to her. _~My lady mother was Orchid, from the line of Gryphon.~_ She arched a brow, but took the tablet, long fingers flicking through the information.

_~You did not tell me this,~_ Ember said, stepping out from behind Alabaster, searching the younger Wraith.

Sprint ducked his head in acknowledgement of the faint accusation. _~How could I, when I had been forbidden to speak of it?~_

_~The lineage of Gryphon is long and distinguished,~_ said Thunder. Sprint started, he had not seen the blade, and did not realise he had been elevated to a position so close to Alabaster. _~Who forbade you and when did your faction split away?~_

_~It was Consort, now dead.~_ Sprint spread his palms in appeal. _~Lady, I know you believe we were among the outlaws that left during the war, but that is not so. Our faction wished to manage our herds alone, without interference.~_

Alabaster shook her head, and gave a throaty chuckle. _~Cleverman, in truth all I am interested in is whether I have your loyalty, or whether you will be as fickle as your brother.~_

Confused, Spark gaped at her and then it dawned on him she meant Bluewater. Revolted, he snarled. _~That one is a fool.~_ The condemnation slipped off his tongue before he could stop it, and he fell silent again, wondering precisely why they brought him before them if they did not think him a criminal.

_~That he is,~_ she agreed, and continued to browse the data, seemed uncaring he had slighted a blade. _~Your lady could not have commanded the loyalty of her men if she required drugs to bind them to her.~_

Understanding flickered through him. This then, was a condemnation of his birth hive, of his dam, and Sprint wondered how he could explain the idiocy that led to Orchid's demise, and the destruction of her hive at the hands of Death. For some reason, Orchid believed using drugs could cleave Wraith to her, and prevent them deserting. So his father set about finding a solution, instructed by his Queen to examine any and every method to usurp the young upstart so keen to destroy their small alliance.

_~My Lady Mother was no traitor,~_ he said, and opened both mind and heart to Alabaster so she would see the truth. _~Our feeding grounds annexed two worlds away from the main populace of the galaxy, and it served us well.~_ The bleak horror of finding their Worshippers destroyed, the herd decimated, writhed in his veins. Imagery flickered across his memory of blackened corpses burnt beyond recognition, worlds laid waste for no other reason than Death willed it so... Sprint recoiled from the images, sickened again by the waste. _~Our faction left to make our own way, to maintain a proper ratio so we did not need to hibernate.~_

_~Ah, now I place your alliance,~_ she said and considered him a little longer, until he shifted on his feet, aware of every set of eyes. _~So, the drug did not work?~_

Sprint shook his head. _~At first, our results were positive, but the blades remembered and the serum affected them in other ways we had not at first envisaged.~_

Alabaster looked back up from the tablet, and he saw her fully for the first time – mind of a cleverman, every bit as disciplined as Guide, every bit as ruthless in pursuit of her belief. A different path, yes, but equally determined. _~It destroyed their neural pathways, and stunted the telepathic ability?~_

To say otherwise would be foolish. _~It did.~_

_~Will it also destroy our spy?~_

_~There is no way of knowing, my Queen,~_ Sprint said, and bowed. _~Despite our many similarities, some sections of the brain are different in humans.~_ Taking a breath, he added, _~The structural variations cause a type of dementia, and from the simulations Dr. Keller and I ran it appears this is an accumulative effect.~_

_~Yes, I see that,~_ she agreed, and handed him back the tablet. _~I will phrase the question a different way. Will she remain in control of her cognitive abilities long enough to complete her role?~_

Sprint gave the question some consideration. _~Human brains are more resilient to the use of drugs, and neither Jennifer nor I could see it would cause more than a minimal, but immediate, amount of damage.~_ An angry Keller stood in front of him again, the wash of fury at absolute zero while she surveyed the results spilling down the terminal screen. The sacrifice did not sit well with her. _~However, despite that, I believe so, Lady.~_

_~And the alteration to memory paths will continue to look undisturbed should she undergo any examination?~_

_~Under simulation, yes, we covered every eventuality.~_ The cleverman huffed, met Alabaster's shrewd citrine gaze. _~There is still a margin for error.~_

_~There is always a margin for error,~_ she said, and sighed. _~Let us hope it will not affect our plans, because Okamy must remain certain she is acting on her own volition.~_

_~I checked myself to ensure there are no gaps in her memory, my lady,~_ Sable purred, and she smiled at him. Oh, this one was certain he could win the position of Pallax, thought Sprint, and observed the way his hand lingered on the arm of the throne close to her pale skin.

_~How does the inoculation of our Worshippers proceed?~_ Alabaster asked, the change of subject sudden.

_~Well.~_ For a moment, Sprint checked himself, and thought on what they had achieved. _~The newest batch of the serum has been tested with excellent results. Feeding produces less pain and the benefits to human and Wraith appear to have stabilised.~_

_~Excellent.~_ Pausing, Alabaster glanced round her chambers, and drew a breath. _~I want you all to leave -~_ and as Sprint began to move towards the exit, her voice stopped him - _~ apart from you, cleverman.~_

He turned back on his heel, and bowed, watching the others file out. Suspicion drifted, thick as smoke, and a hint of jealousy, at which he snorted derisively. What nonsense. Why would Alabaster deign to notice him when there were so many others for her to choose from. Bonewhite, now he was a fine blade, and so was Sable. They were the kind of men a queen would pick her zenana from, not some refugee from a long forgotten alliance.

As soon as they had the chambers to themselves, Alabaster beckoned him over, and settled back into the depths of the throne where she scrutinised him further. _~I need you to do something for me, Sprint. And you report to me alone, is that clear?~_

Sprint lowered his head in affirmation. _~Yes, Lady, it is.~_

_~Good.~_ She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue. _~Watch Guide and the Fair One closely. I need to know immediately if there is so much as a hint concerning them in any part of the hive's social structure.~_

A bubble of amusement strayed through his mind, bounced and deflected against his carefully strengthened barriers, contained. Cautious, he said, _~The Hive Master has instructed me to report to him should I see any suspect behaviour from Dr. Keller.~_

_~Has he?~_ Alabaster chuckled, and her fingers twined with the end of her plait as she thought. _~Hmmm, well, I think you should continue to do that, but my orders have priority.~_ When he offered another bow, she leaned forward and gripped his forearm, and he sensed the deep concern within. _~It is a dangerous game my father plays, Sprint, and I would see my human friend safe.~_

He met her eyes, and placed every drop of sincerity in his answer that he could muster. _~She is my friend also, my Queen.~_


	17. Chapter 17

Exhausted. Alabaster lowered her head into her hands, and closed her eyes. By the First Mothers, if only they could finish the inoculations. A little grimace twisted her mouth. This latest complication distracted them from the task, and it frustrated her more than she could verbalise. Part of her wanted to strike out in frustration, but no fault or blame could be apportioned to any one of her crew, of the blades and clevermen who now looked to her. Each of them worked beyond what either she or Guide expected of them, driven by a shared vision.

She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eye sockets, and sighed. Frustrated, yes, and concerned, but she could not allow it to overwhelm her. In that, she looked to Guide for an example. Somewhere, always, he managed to drag a plan into place, one that could turn defeat to victory, and she knew she could not dispense with his acerbic advise just yet. No matter how tempted she became. Jennifer called him a... Alabaster searched for the phrase... a manipulative bastard... a thorn in her side. Yes. A thorn in her side. Sharp as a needle, as slim and deadly in the right hands as any knife.

Turning, she paced to the arc of the window, and rested a palm against its surface, contemplating the latest planet to provide samples and where they inoculated further Worshippers. Mostly water, the major land masses were dotted around the equator, which was just as well as the polar regions encroached on the massive northern ocean. In the throes of a minor ice age, the world glistened under its yellow sun, crystalline, unblemished. Not for the first time, Alabaster wondered how long it would take the humans of Earth to sully the near pristine worlds of Pegasus in their constant search for materials; she had seen pictures of their home, keepsakes the Fair One shared with her. Or for the humans of Pegasus to develop the industrial infrastructure needed for a society to function if it was to progress technologically. Now Wraith could, and should not, hold them in check.

Some would argue they would have to still. Halt progress. Deny humans their scientific inheritance in order to maintain a superiority, which did not exist any more except in the minds of those who clung to prejudice. The end result being the slavery the Lanteans feared. Removing the threat of starvation was simply the first obstacle, and that become clearer with every step they took along this path.

Who was she, this queen with a mind of glass, and her Worshipper spy? What possible reason could she have to want to infiltrate their alliance, other than to attempt to destroy what they sought to build? Questions, questions... They crowded in her head, baying for attention until Alabaster thought she would scream from the pressure. The simpler life of The Bride called to her, and she looked back on it with almost a gentle reminiscence. Dragged back into the machinations of Wraith politics, of the politics for an entire galaxy, seemed far too heavy a burden for one small alliance, even one buoyed up by the Lanteans and their acquired tech.

If she had a power base, could they stand against her when already their resources were depleted from the recent conflict? Would Atlantis even care? Alabaster turned her feeding hand upward, and surveyed the slit adorning her palm. The solution they had to feeding was simple, pure, but many would seek to corrupt its nature. How then to have consensus?

_~My Queen?~_

Alabaster had not even heard the doors opening, but she turned, relieved to have an interruption in her more and more disturbing train of thought. A pang of disappointment, sharp as pins, coursed through her at the sight of Wintersong. Well aware he had high hopes of stepping into the role of Consort, he could not take command of her hive, although she would gladly add him to her zenana. There was a streak of intractability, and hotheadedness, within his nature that had need of curbing. Too much power would make him a tyrant, and the Pallax she chose for this journey needed a more subtle hand. No, the need for brute strength fled with the retrovirus, and the arrival of Atlantis.

_~Yes, my blade?~_ she said warmly, and hid the hope that he would have been Ember under layers of welcome.

The blade offered her a bow, his palms open and spread to the side of his body. Handsome, his hair gleamed silver, thin braids scattered in its artful disarray. He looked very fine. And his green-gold eyes held more than a glint of admiration. Alabaster allowed herself to bask in his adoration for a moment, but then she hardened, lifted her chin in expectation and silent question.

_~The woman has gone to the surface with Sprint and Fair One.~_

_~When.~_

_~This past work cycle.~_

_~I was not informed, why?~_

_~Guide felt it better for you to take your rest, my Lady.~_ Wintersong bowed again, and Alabaster stifled a huff of annoyance.

_~Has she made any attempt to get away yet?~_

_~None.~_

Alabaster moved back in front of the window, mouth thin as she contemplated the planet below, and the woman they expected to betray them. Perhaps news would arrive soon, and they could move forwards with it, prepare a reaction to the threat. It agitated her, the wait. She reached for Guide's presence, found half his mind locked in ship-trance, and the other part brooding about his personal situation. Fascinated by his struggle, Alabaster edged closer, fully aware only his preoccupation with the ship's systems allowed her to examine the upper layers of his thoughts. As suspected, the Fair One figured, but even that stray image diminished against his concern for the progression of their plans. So, he spoke truly about his priorities. She welcomed the knowledge, as it allowed her to relax in a small way.

_~How then do the inoculations proceed?~_

_~Well.~_ Taking a step further into the room, Wintersong added, _~The humans are pleased they no longer die or age.~_

Alabaster snorted, and glanced over her shoulder at him. _~As well any might be, Wintersong.~_ The blade shuffled, looked uncomfortable, and she cocked her head. _~The idea humans will no longer be reliant on us bothers you still?~_

He drew a breath and glanced past her at the planet, troubled. _~Lady, I see the need for change but...~_ Alabaster scrutinised him, tasting thoughts that bubbled, emotions, concerns, and wondered if her assessment had been too hasty. _~ But... some will feel they have been deserted by their masters, and will not know how to live.~_

_~It is for us to help them find their own direction,~_ she said, suddenly certain through action as stewards they could find purpose in their new lives. The possibilities excited her. They could become better than their progenitors. Better than the race that spawned them all, that left Wraith, the bastard children, to fend for themselves. _~We must stand together for the future.~_

The blade's eyes darkened in thought, and he nodded. _~Even as the Commander believes, my Lady, as more?~_

And Alabaster nodded. How could she refute that assessment when she too had reached it so long ago?

~xxXXxx~

Indecision. Not once in all his millennia had Guide ever felt the need to consider a step such as this, and he viewed it as impartially as possible. Which was not achievable at all, he found. Right now, standing before the doors to the Fair One's quarters, his hand resting beside the panel, he battled, weighed it against his personal need, and the need of the alliance. It burned. Burned nearly as brightly as hunger, as deep as the loss of Snow, and all those others, brothers, son, hive, friends... charred reason to ash drifting helpless against raging storms.

If not he, then who would take this first step to lunacy?

Angry with himself, Guide shook off such nonsense, and waved his palm over the panel. As it slid open, he took a step into the room, and glanced around. Though the soft sound of splashing and the bundle of filthy clothes on the floor gave mute witness to her presence, the Fair One was nowhere in sight. On her bed lay a new set of clothes, more fitting to her position on the hive, an adapted coat that had the cut and colour of a cleverman's with the DNA sequence of both Wraith and human picked out in deep blue stitches along the cuffs and collar. A blue velvet top would sit beneath, and tight leather pants in a rich navy, along with a belt to cinch around her waist, completed the outfit. Alabaster and Jennifer had taken some time to choose the colour, settling on that particular shade of blue because it made her hair more than golden, enriched it with honey, and the glint of silver.

Drawing close to the bed, he ran his fingertips over the shirt, along its high collar, the small diamond cut-outs which would hint at smooth flesh beneath. His guts clenched, with both desire and fear, odd bedfellows for one such as he with a thousand different lovers in his past and yet more in his future.

"Oh... when did you get here?"

Not quite the welcome he hoped for, Guide turned to face Jennifer, and held back a growl. Wrapped in a towel, her shoulders were bare, blushing from the heat of the bath, water trickling from her hair, which clung to her neck in long tails. The liquid nitrogen in her gaze froze any greeting, and ardour receded.

"A few moments ago," he said, and cocked his head, tone as brittle as her demeanour.

She watched him while she applied a smaller towel vigorously to her hair, throwing the damp thing to land on her dirty uniform when she finished. "Okamy has gone?"

"Yes." The comment had all the feel of an accusation rather than a question, so he stepped forward, reduced the space between them. Jennifer stiffened and he added, "You knew this would happen."

"That she would go to the planet to continue with her work as a spy?" Guide nodded in response."I did."

"So then I fail to see why you are irritated." He feasted on her, unable to drag his eyes away, but knew he should.

"You told me she would not be hurt." Jennifer's cheeks bloomed while he tracked the line of her neck, the hollow of her throat, the shadow between her breasts, the sharp delineation of her collar bones detailed by the glow of light from overhead. He could hear her heart thrum, frantic, caught between fury and an answering want. "You gave me your word."

All options opened before him, what he would say under normal circumstances, because she was human, and what he should say now, at that particular moment. Another step along the path towards equality. Offer her truth, honesty; because without it, they could never learn to trust each other. They teetered on the edge of a crevasse, at the bottom of which lay jagged rocks to shred them to pieces, crush and grind bones, hope, friendship, love, companionship... So easy, so simple to speak the lies which fell so easily, pat, from his lips. He owed her... and he paused. What did he owe? The answer was so simple. Everything.

"I cannot guarantee her safety now she is on the planet. I could only tell you I would ensure we did not harm her while she remained on Bright Venture."

The chill did not lessen, and she pulled the towel tighter, her knuckles white. "I see."

Guide took refuge in formality, and offered a slight inclination of his head. "There is a maxim employed on your world, is there not, Fair One?" A crease appeared between her brows and she scrutinised him closely. "Something Dr. McKay shared with me."

Curiosity glimmered, but her mouth remained tight. "Oh?"

"The need of the many outweigh the need of the few, or the one."

"Star Trek? You're kidding me?"

Puzzled by her laughter, Guide shook his head. "Not at all. It seems to me the sentiment is sound, but what is 'Star Trek?"

She lifted her brows, surprise flitting over her face. "He never showed you any?"

"Showed me any?"

Jennifer gave another little snort of laughter, and shook her head. "It's.. well... it's a TV programme... entertainment."

"I see." Guide drew a breath, and decided to leave; it would serve no purpose to remain. A number of emotions churned through him as he started for the doors, including a large dose of embarrassment, but he stopped when her hand caught at his elbow. Glancing at her fingers, he looked across at her. "Yes?"

"Don't be such a grouch, Guide. You weren't to know, and it is a valid expression, one that's come into everyday use, so..." She made an exasperated sound and turned away, her damp hair falling between her shoulder blades, the ends curling, frayed into silky strands he itched to touch. "Anyway... no need to take it so hard."

"Then you understand why Okamy had to go with you, and why she must continue to act as though we are unaware of her true purpose?"

She gazed over her shoulder at him. "Yeah... doesn't mean I have to like it."

"No," he agreed. "You do not, but if I can -"Guide made a tentative offer, wondered where it came from because mercy like this went against his nature - "I will try to ensure she does not die."

A small sound came his way, and Jennifer edged past to take up the clothes on the bed in her arms. "That's... that's very decent of you."

What could he say to that, he wondered? Decency, such as that implied by her remark, was not what he intended, and he hissed. "It is not."

"So why do it then?" she stormed, and spun round to glare at him, eyes wide with anger.

"Because you... wish it." The admission tore at him, provoked him, and he headed to the doors again, emotion twisting in him. Why had he come? For this? For humiliation? For her to find him wanting, when he had no idea of the rules that made up this game he found himself playing, driven as he was by millions of years of evolution, of society, and culture. A culture so different to her own he wondered if they could ever break down the barriers between them?

"Guide... I..."

"What?" Guide halted and closed his eyes, stripped everything away, started to build a new, harder, more effective rampart, and clenched his hands, talons cutting into flesh. If she were Wraith, this would be different. If she were Wraith, would he feel this way? If she were Wraith, would she? He nearly missed the gentle pressure on his back at his shoulder blade.

"Guide..." Her voice sounded soft, careful. "Thank you."

Gruff, he said, "Do not thank me yet. I may not save her." He felt her come closer, move into his body space, and he resisted the urge to face her, to snatch her up, to bear her across to the bed, held on to whatever shred of purpose remained. "You should dress."

"Yes."

Breathy, the word lingered in his senses, and the distance he had decided should remain, collapsed into ruin. He did not dare move for fear this delicate creature would fly away and leave him bereft, and he could not shatter again. Once was enough. "We should go, Fair One."

"I know." And she stole into his view, her hands moving up his vest to reach around his neck, eyes shining and dark, her soft lips parted. Still, he sucked in air, waited. "Not yet."

Of their own volition, his hands rested on her hips, fingers splayed as he pulled her against his frame, claws digging into the fabric surrounding her. Under the scent of flowers rising from her skin, he tasted her unique flavour, that which made her Jennifer, and it sank into his sensory pits, over his tongue, into the depths of his guts and loins. A kiss waited on those sweet lips, and he captured it, a visceral moan wrenched from the depths of his being. Mouth against hers, his tongue explored the moist cavern, memorising every aspect, the kiss long and deep, until they both gasped for breath. Pulling away, the towel fell to reveal flawless, creamy skin, the curve of a breast, the hollow of her waist and rise of rounded hip and his feeding hand moved greedily across each curved slope, barbs catching, drawing a shudder from her as he memorised every texture, feel, her response to each spot he pressed, teased.

Fingers knotted tightly in his hair, and he hissed with the welcome pain of it, when his palm moved between her thighs, her head back as she arched against him seeking pressure from his hand while his digits quested into her depths. Guide ran his tongue over her neck's slender column, and she whimpered, pushed against him again, her wetness smeared over his handmouth. Continuing the slow massage, he came up and gazed at her, devoured the sight of her, his breathing ragged.

"Perhaps," he husked, "I am overdressed, little one." A little frisson of fear touched him, combined in a heady mix of heat, and want and lust, and he swept her up, caged her against him, emphatic. "I will not hurt you."

"I know," she whispered, but there was fear in her eyes none-the-less, so he kissed her into quivering compliance.

And then they were on her bed, and there was nothing shy or doubting about the way she wrenched at his clothes, and Guide obliged her efforts to free him, pushing aside heavy leather, ripped at the fastenings, so he could throw it to the floor where it landed like a slap, his thin shirt following a second later. Cool air touched his skin, and he lowered onto her body, the sudden rush of warmth from her burning against him, igniting the flames he had banked so carefully. Snarling with pleasure, he ran his razor teeth the length of her collarbone, into the crook of her neck, along the line of her jaw, one arm supporting his weight, the other helping her with the remaining leather that kept him from her. They scrabbled at it, pushed it down and they were naked, together, heated skin on skin, and he kicked it away, sprawled over her, one leg between her thighs, his swollen length trapped between their bellies.

So human, so tender. Fascinated, he stroked her, drew a talon across her ribs, watched the skin pimple, listened to her drag in a breath, the tiny mewls when he caressed first that nerve, then another. The contrast of their skin, the feel of her when he cupped the small, perfect globes of her breasts, ran his thumb over hard pink buds, and Guide ached. Control wavered, hard won, and the need to fill her, to feel her wrapped around him, to hear her scream in ecstasy became his single goal.

Moving over her, he pushed her thighs apart, and she reached for him, locked around him, taking him by surprise, but the look in her eyes was salacious, resolute, the tangle of emotions percolating his way eroded any doubt that she did not want him or this conclusion. Fingertips stirred over him, smoothed across ridges, the pointed head of his glans, and he bared teeth, hissed as a new surge of desire rocked him to his core. He could not speak, and did not want to wait a moment longer so drove himself into her hot centre, a single long hard thrust, rocking his hips until he occupied her completely, and she bent like a bow, her legs locked round his waist, shoved herself against him. This was the woman who captured an old heart, and drove away the hurt of the past, and he sank into the bright essence that was Jennifer. All was stillness...

She strained, tried to move, but he pinned her down, savouring the feel of her body's curves against his hard planes, the perfume from her rising up between them. Not yet, not yet. He wanted to relish every sensation, from the beat of her frantic heart, the feel of her silken sex clasping his organ in its smooth walls, to her fingers exploration of the muscles of his back along the bony protrusions of his spine. With every thrum of blood in her veins, with every tiny kiss, each nip, each gasp, he grew harder...

"...Guide..."

She sobbed out his name, begging, and he began to move...

Under his hands her flesh felt no different, responded the same as any. Her breath puffed hot, short gasps while he pleasured them both, little cries served only to urge him on, filled his loins with fire. Parted lips allowed him entrance, her taste sweet, alien to his tongue, while blunted teeth clashed with his as he followed her down into the kiss. So tempting to remain there, all sense of time, of place, lost. But he pulled away, tasting her skin as he followed the length of her neck, drawing in their conjoined scent, the heady mix of Wraith and human. While she writhed in his arms he drew his tongue across taut nipples and savoured the surge of emotion sweeping over her, through him, heightening his delight. A growl strummed between them, and he did not know if it came from his throat or hers. Spiralling need, tenderness, a gentleness he almost forgot... they fitted so well - she to him, and he to her - matched, a meeting, enveloping passion. Warmth, darkness, a single point of existence, a universe of their own creation.

Release came when she tightened about him, a rhythmic pulse, fingers digging into his shoulders and the nerves by his spine, and a strangled cry in his ear. Her name slipped from his tongue, embraced them both when he emptied himself. "Fair One..."

~xxXXxx~

At night, the village lay quiet under its triple moons, bathed in silver, only the central fire flickering and the occasional bay of the animals they kept disturbed the ambience. Bonewhite stood watching those flames, arms folded and eyes narrow, his mind on the events of the last day or so. So far, Okamy had done nothing, behaved in an exemplary manner, and the Hive master admitted to impatience.

It was enough. They had waited too long, and he chafed at the idea of waiting even longer. Knowing betrayal lurked in the shadows was bad enough, being unaware of when that betrayal would strike gave him what he had heard Sheppard describe as 'a pain in the ass.' A sentiment he fully appreciated at that moment.

Still, understandable as such feelings were, they did not serve a purpose, and he huffed, bending to grab an escaping piece of wood and throw it back onto the glowing flames. A bright arc burnt through the night, and it joined the others in a shower of sparks, dark against light, and then red to white. The other aspect bothering him reared up to take the place of his discarded impatience, and the Hive Master growled.

Yet another nonsense that deserved less attention than he gave it but, keeping the nature of the relationship between Guide and the Fair One quiet began to strain at his ability to hold in check hive gossip. The Commander's personal servant, Meroc, knew his life was forfeit should even a single whisper reach the Worshippers quarters. That one was privy to far too many about his master's machinations, but though he had ever been circumspect, and Bonewhite believed a healthy respect for his own position and life encouraged the attitude, this raised all manner of uncomfortable questions for the humans aboard Bright Venture. Oh, Bonewhite did not delude himself enough to believe every Wraith, blade or cleverman, declined the... services of humans, but the Commander's preoccupation caused ripples he would sooner not face now or in the future - near or otherwise.

He toed another spark as it fell at his feet, turning it over and grinding it out under his heel, before heading towards his dart. Bad enough his Queen enjoyed the company of the human males who adored her, and offered her their lives over and again, bad enough this revolution took place on the hive he chose to align himself. If he truly doubted Guide's vision, then he should leave, and take his knowledge elsewhere. Kidnap the Fair One, and use her to make his own way. Kill her even to maintain the status of Wraith in the galaxy. Except, he _did_ believe in this strategy, and the path they took, so he had no choice but to tolerate the questionable emotional dalliance his Commander had with the woman. A woman he agreed was integral to their mission.

Still, she was a weakness, and one that could definitely be exploited so it was up to him to guard against this.


	18. A Line in the Sand

Diagnostics tumbled into his awareness, and Bonewhite gave a contented grunt when the ship responded like a lover, sweet, compliant to his demands without so much as a single hitch. All work on the upgraded navigation systems progressed in a more than positive manner, and soon reach completion as well. Then they could address the other matter, one which now took priority - removal of the holding cocoons. Once all the inoculations had taken place they would not need them and, though the entire notion rocked him to his feet, Bonewhite found himself relieved hunger could become a thing of the past. No more reliance on an unpredictable food source. No more supervision of herds or culls. Yes, he knew immense questions remained unanswered, but Alabaster shared a vision with him, one that might work to the benefit of both species. Their young Queen had purpose, a keen mind, and more tellingly, she shared with her council, and listened to them. However, Guide still had far too much influence and it told; it would take time for her innovations to fledge.

Thoughts of Guide twisted his mouth with frustration. That one pushed too fast and too hard.

_~She has made contact, Hive Master.~_

Swivelling towards the young blade who offered him a bow, Bonewhite grunted acknowledgement. _~When?~_

Handing over the tablet, the blade, Brighten, offered a grimace. ~ _No more than an hour ago.~_

_~And she is where now...?~_

_~Back on board, my Lord, and in the Worshippers quarters.~_

_~She remains unaware of our observation?~_ Another bow came as acknowledgement, and Bonewhite waved the youth away, his eyes fastened on the data gleaned from the transponder, and the drone.

Okamy had not strayed too far from the settlement, but headed towards the gate, which she activated, had calmly walked up to the very aperture, placed a small bundle through the event horizon and then, as soon as she had done so, checked her surroundings only to make her way, unhurried, back the way she came. The Hive Master ran his tongue over the tips of his teeth in thought and played back the spy drone's recording again, but did not recognise Okamy's hand placements or the resultant address. Interesting. Setting the machine on top of the column, he ran his fingers across the screen, and froze the sequence one step at a time, transferring the information into the mainframe. Wherever it took them, they needed to follow the bundle she had placed oh-so-carefully soon. At least then they would understand the conflict that awaited them and what nature the conflict would take...

Once finished, he tucked the tablet under his arm and made his way off the bridge; he needed to speak with the Fair One. She would know immediately what had gone missing from the lab, if anything. Taking the corridor leading towards the laboratory, he replayed the address he had retrieved from the information and played it over in his mind. Certain aspects held familiarity, but they did not resonate in any complete sense, and it left him frustrated. Sending drones, and a handler could be too risky, as they may well walk into a situation that would alert whoever was at the other end. That was something they could not risk at the moment, and he sent a request to Alabaster. The sooner a council meeting was held the better he would like it.

What eluded his comprehension at the moment was the desire to disrupt what would surely be an improvement in the lot of Wraith? The other factions they had discussion with, while initially hostile, readily saw the benefit of having their Worshippers immune to the effect of feeding, and as adjustments to the retrovirus were fine-tuned, the possibility of it becoming incorporated into the genome became more than just a hopeful dream. It could happen. The science, though definitely tricky, would allow for such a development.

He came to a halt in front of the laboratory and swept his hand over the panel. Tucking the tablet under his arm more securely, he strode over the threshold, and scanned the room. Bent over a keyboard, the Fair One did not acknowledge his presence at first, the clack of keys evident as she input data into the computer. When she did lift her head, she narrowed her eyes, a brief flash of emotion appearing in them, one she suppressed before he had more than a fleeting taste.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come in," she said, and stopped work, a flush on her skin when she realised his scrutiny.

Curious, Bonewhite examined her with more care than usual, noted how her mouth appeared swollen. More careful scrutiny revealed bruises round one wrist, spots of blossoming purple, dark as ink, circling her narrow bones like a bracelet. Eyes narrow, the Hive Master stepped closer to the bench and grabbed Keller's arm with his feeding hand, setting the tablet on its surface so he could examine the marks. He traced a claw along the bruise, ignoring the gasp of outrage, and the tug she gave to get away.

"Matters have progressed, Fair One," he said, and dropped her arm, cataloguing his emotions and those he sensed flowing from her.

"None of your goddamn business," she hissed, eyes steely, the colour in her cheeks higher, her fingers covering the stains round her wrist. "What the hell do you want, Hive Master?"

Mouth tightening, Bonewhite returned her glare, but she met him head on, unimpressed. "My inquiry concerned any items that might be missing from here, Doctor. Perhaps you can enlighten me?"

"A couple of crystals have gone missing," Jennifer said, as she replayed the footage of Okamy, her fingers dancing across the screen as she slowed the footage. Turning her attention back to her work, she added, "Other than that, I haven't got anything else to add."

"Perhaps you do not fully appreciate the implications of such actions?" Bonewhite asked, placing careful emphasis in the words so she would not miss his meaning.

Keller's fingers slowed, and she enunciated, equally careful, " _Perhaps_ you consider me stupid."

A challenge? For a moment, Bonewhite weighed his options, but then bared teeth. "Not stupid," he growled, and leant forward so his breath stirred the fine hair on her cheek. "Naive might be a better choice of word."

Silence met his comment, and she continued to type busily, the rapidity of the keystrokes an obvious display of heightened emotion, and an attempt to control them. This continued for some minutes while he stared at her, waiting for a response. Any response.

Eventually, the muscles in her jaw tightened, and she returned the stare, her lips tight, almost white with a quenched fury he sensed she barely kept under control. "What? Still here?"

"Regrettably, it seems I must remain to speak with you about this matter until it is resolved satisfactorily."

"You arrogant son-of-a-bitch."

Delighted by the chance to speak openly, Bonewhite grinned at the insult, and added venom to his words. "I undoubtedly am that, child, but my heritage is not in question, is it?" She gaped at him. Disbelief and then a spark of appreciation flashed in her eyes, just for a second, before it extinguished when he added, "You must desist."

"Desist?" she repeated, and her mouth thinned again. "From what would you like me to desist, Bonewhite?" A jerk of her chin took in the equipment around her, the pile of papers, the boards, each aspect of the research she lead. "From saving your kind?"

"Deliberate obtuseness will not make the situation disappear."

"You just won't let this go, will you?"

"Neither, it seems, will you." The quiet following his statement was profound, deafening. A shake entered the woman's hands even though she continued to ignore his existence, as if by that action she could will him some place else. Bonewhite watched her falter as she worked, conscious of the effect he had on her, a deep and perverse enjoyment he could rattle her so. "Risks related to the success of our mission increase, Doctor, with your continued association."

Keller closed her eyes; he watched her swallow and the rate of her heart increased, the thud clear in the hollow of her throat. "I can say... what?" Her gaze, when it met his over the monitor, was dark, curiously bright. Brittle as glass, she said, "That... I know?"

"If you know," he murmured, and rested his palms on each side of the screen, "explain why you have allowed it to conclude in this manner?"

Her head drooped, and she rested her forehead in her palm, her breathing faster. "Get out."

"If we are to fail," he continued, pushing his point home ruthlessly, a sword seeking to pierce her heart, "then the peace which both Atlantis and our alliance work for will not come to fruition. Wraith may choose war again, and extinction. I will. Not. Allow. It."

Hopelessness flashed across her features, and then she regained some of that strength of character he admired despite himself.

"Your point is taken." The Hive Master watched her fight to compose herself, felt her pull the smoke of rage, confusion and despair into a small ball of twisting, competing worms; he felt a mental shake as she focussed on the reason for his visit. "If you examine the crystal I've just prepared you will see the data Okamy took with her would require certain elements to make it usable. If I miss my mark, and I don't think I have, her mistress will instruct her to obtain the missing info just so they can make their lives easier."

"Worse," Bonewhite growled, deliberately putting aside her attempt to distract. "They may learn of your _involvement_ -" and he spat the word out, satisfied when she flinched - "and attempt to kidnap you."

Startled, frightened eyes met his for a moment. In a small voice, she repeated, "Kidnap?"

"Or kill." The grenade launched, Bonewhite whirled away from her, truly surprised such a thing had not crossed her mind; he knew it sat in Guide's - he had seen it there often enough. "You really believe enemies of our coalition would not seek to remove something so vital to our cause as yourself, Fair One, or did you truly think you mattered so little?"

"I'm not vain enough to believe I've got so much significance, influence or value to this -" Jennifer waved her hand at the computers, banked anger flaring again, lava bright and hot - "process, or to the hive." Getting to her feet, she spat, "All I hear from you is how you're worried about how this looks to the outside."

"If I care," he hissed, "about how it is viewed then you would do well to heed such an attitude, woman." Stalking closer, he stared long and hard into her eyes, was rewarded by a twitch. "How do you think kidnap would be received by Atlantis? Do you think they would believe us if we told them we had done all we could to prevent such a thing? Do you truly believe they would not blame us for anything that befell you, even if we had evidence to show that you made your own decision?"

She blanched, all colour draining from her face, and reached for the crutch that rested by her side, hobbling painfully round the bench so she stood within reach of his feeding hand. "So why don't you talk to Guide?"

What could he say to that? Tell her he already had discussed it, ad nauseam, until both of them retreated into ill temper that strayed and bit at every unfortunate they came across? Tell her Guide was unmoved by his reasoning, seeing only the moment and the possibilities their example could have for the future? Bonewhite snarled, and Jennifer drew back, her shoulders stiff with sudden fear; he could taste it as surely as if his hand rested on her breast.

"It is for you to make the choice," he snapped, and she grew paler still, the fringes of her dark lashes stark against her skin when she closed her eyes, but he would not disappear. Persistent, insistent, he hissed, "You, and you alone can decide what will happen next."

"Shut up. I don't need to hear this." Keller retrieved her crutch and moved to the door, her back stiff. Considering how her ankle still pained her, the Hive Master found himself impressed by her rapidity. The door slid open, and Guide entered the room on the parting shot, his eyes fixed on the woman as she drew close to him. "He'll make his up own damn mind."

"Who is to make up his mind?"

"You," she said, and stared up at the Commander; she tried to get round him, but his off hand on her arm prevented her from leaving. "Guide, please... "

"What has happened here?" he asked, and propelled Jennifer back into the laboratory, firm in his handling, ignoring her quiet protest. When she avoided his gaze and silence greeted his question, he addressed Bonewhite directly. "Well?"

"I pointed out certain facts to Dr. Keller of which she seemed unaware," he answered, smoothly, and retrieved the crystal Jennifer had indicated would assist in his other task. It warmed in the palm of his hand as he considered it, such a tiny thing to hold such power. "Difficulties that require the close attention of you both."

Guide studied the Hive master and then Jennifer, green-gold eyes lingering on her features before he said, "Fair One?"

"Not the right place or the right time," she said, and tried to shake free, but his hand fastened tighter.

"Is this something the three of us should debate?" he asked, without acknowledging she spoke, and tipped his head in question towards Bonewhite.

Bonewhite narrowed his eyes, watched them. The interplay could be seen, but only when they gazed at each other. For any who cared, and were perceptive enough, an obvious regard existed. "I merely pointed out situation, Commander, and the troubles that could arise should it become common knowledge."

"Guide," Jennifer said, and her tone was so low both Wraith eyed her. "Let. Me. Go."

"I think it would be beneficial if we were to discuss this situation now," Guide said, and met his Second's gaze again. "Would you not agree?"

"No." Her tone was hard, and Guide glanced down at her. "No, I do not."

"That is a pity," the Hive Master murmured. The insincerity caused Guide to bare teeth, and rumble a low growl.

"You go too far," that one warned, but Jennifer laid a palm on his chest, her eyes silently pleading.

"Guide..."

Taking her hand, the Commander ran his thumb over her knuckles, searching her face as he did. "This cannot be allowed to progress any further -"

"Indeed it cannot," interrupted Bonewhite, and they both stared back at him.

A variety of emotion curled about them, and the Hive Master recoiled at their intensity. Caught by surprise, he could hardly deny the depth of mutual feeling or, and he found himself further astonished, his own regret. For one of very few times in his long life, the temptation to apologise struck Bonewhite; he wanted to make reparation. It seemed such a thing could exist between their species. But it was too soon. Far too soon. A too fragile peace, too fragile an alliance rested on their shoulders for it to crash around them now.

"It _must_ not."

The human woman favoured him with another glance, and pulled her hand out from beneath Guide's. For his part, Guide did not attempt to stop her this time, and released her arm, allowing her to limp towards the door. They slid shut on her slim form, and only then did Guide turn back to face him.

_~What now, Hive Master?~_ he asked, and every muscle, every aspect of him tightened, strained, as if the substance of him would detonate at any time. _~Are we to continue in this manner, constantly circling the same issues, reassessing matters best left to the Fair One and I to decide?~_

_~You know my answer, Commander.~_

The internal battle could not have been clearer if Guide raged in open fury at the inequity of the situation. But he was no infant. Ten thousand years sat on his shoulders, and he had loved, been loved, many times through the centuries. This affair amounted to no more than a tiny mar in a life that would continue for far longer – before his own death he might see other civilisations flourish and fall – but still, Bonewhite saw he struggled. Perhaps there came a time when even their lives were too long, and they became too rigid, too concrete, and too tired. Weariness eclipsed Guide, and he warred against the shadow griming his soul, before he thrust his own needs behind those of his kind in a concerted effort.

_~It would seem I do,~_ he responded, and amongst his words Bonewhite heard the weight of judgement and age, an edge of bitterness. But Guide would not be the blade he chose to follow if he fell to despair and, relieved, the Hive Master felt the coils of grief forced to a knot and hidden behind a will of cold steel. A new hard wall enveloped Guide when he uttered, _~Well then, I repeat, what now?~_

Glancing at the crystal in his hand, Bonewhite assessed the situation. _~We find this queen that seeks to destroy us.~_

~xxXXxx~

Thick sprawls of foliage stood in Alabaster's way, creeping shadows meandering lazily up the walls, while an electric blue storm lizard ran across her path, skittering into the undergrowth to gaze back with unblinking, garnet eyes. A darker, purple female followed, her white tail lashing as she followed the pheromones of her chosen mate. The young queen paused and watched, fascinated to see another male follow, and then another, chasing their female as she pursued her male. They ran up the bark of a tree, tiny clear claws digging into the rough surface, and then they leapt out of sight, but she managed to follow their movements, leaves and blossoms rustling as they tagged each other in a frenzy of coital need.

A soft noise reached her, that of the fall of water, and she slipped under a bower of drooping moonblossom, silver pollen dusting her shoulders and hair as she passed by them. Reaching up, she plucked one of the trumpet shaped flowers, and slipped its stem into the side of the comb that caught her hair back, relishing the scent it released from bruised petals. Sweet as fruit, soft as velvet, she fingered the blooms, trailing the tips of her talons across their furled buds, and then turned her attention to the path. Ahead, the clearing opened out to a seating area, and Alabaster headed for it, relishing the thought of time to herself.

Constant demands regarding the political situation with other factions, how to juggle Atlantis, manage her father, choose a Pallax from the males vying for her attention... Grateful for the respite, she folded herself onto a bench, and leaned back, took a deep breath so the fragrance of the arboretum swept across her sensory pits and tongue. Mist curled at her feet, bringing with it damp loam, a sense of greenness, sensations of sound, all filtered into a wonderful peace. Alabaster allowed a sigh of relief, and settled to meditate.

She had no idea how long she sat there, mind drifting through the consciousness of the hive, every member a firefly that made up the whole, a bright point of light she could reach. A cognisance of unity, the sum greater than any part, it hummed, an organic machine, reverberating with efficiency, and vitality. A vigour brought to it by a well-fed, contented crew. Brief contentment suffused her, and her delight spread, a balm, over and through every mind.

She struck a bulwark when she found her sire, and she reeled from it. _~Guide?~_ But he did not respond, except to harden his barriers until they achieved the consistency of diamond. _~Father?~_ He would not hear her, and it alarmed Alabaster. 

_~Lady...~_

Surprised by the hesitant voice, Alabaster shook off the fuzzy aftermath of joining, and frowned, discarding her anxiety when she heard the uncertainty in his mind voice. _~Sprint?~_

_~I come.~_ Faint imagery reached her through their link, which he had narrowed to as personal a level as he could. Beside him, she detected the presence of the Fair One, and her aura, normally so vibrant, had shrunk to the merest trace. _~We come.~_

Alabaster rose to her feet. What had happened to cause such a thing in both Guide and Jennifer? Could it be they discovered an inconsistency, because if so it would affect the research and their plans to unify Wraith. Data from the vaccinations ran through her mind, and Alabaster searched for something to furnish insight into what might have caused such a breach? The last information she analysed did not point to anything out of the ordinary, indeed, the work advanced at a more than tolerable level.

_~Sprint, my cleverman, tell me what has happened?~_

_~I cannot, my Queen. Jennifer... ~_ Sprint conveyed unease and concern across the slender tendril connecting them. _~She... refused to speak of it and insisted I brought her to you.~_

Alabaster inhaled. If not the research task then it could only be one other matter, and that was something she had no wish to discuss or dwell on in any fine detail. All of that raced through her head, but she quelled any emotion that might betray her. _~I see.~_ Careful, she phrased a question. _~You will be here soon?~_

_~We will transport to the arboretum.~_

While she waited for their arrival, Alabaster walked aimlessly around the edge of the clearing, leaning over the pool to watch the jewel-like amphibians flashing limbs of gold and emerald, and held her fingers under the cold, clear water of the ornamental fall. Bell flowers jangled when she grazed against them, chiming in time with the icy liquid as it spattered the front of her pants and the sweep of her long overcoat. Eyes closed, she listened to the motion of the garden, the soft sigh from trees, the buzz of insects, the chirrup of an avian or reptile... time stretched, thinned, and then they were there. They brought a heaviness, a solidity, previously absent from the hollow room, and it smothered her. Only the rustle of moving foliage revealed their existence, and she sank to the ground, arranging her coat skirts, then ran her talons through the turf.

"My Lady," the cleverman breathed, and Alabaster glanced askance at him, more concerned by the woman who stood at his side. "If it please you..."

"Come," she said, and gestured to the ground beside her, patting it in welcome. "Sit with me, Fair One."

Stiff, Jennifer eased herself to the ground, and Sprint stood to the side, hovered like an attendant round a gaggle of fractious infants, the emotion he sought to repress all the more noticeable. Protective, Alabaster noted, approvingly, and then directed a laser stare at the female. Jennifer's colours were jumbled, and tight into her body, dulled to a dirty grey; her physical appearance seemed better, although Alabaster spotted signs of wear and tear she had not detected before. Perhaps they had been there all along but she had failed to see them?

She broke the silence after a while, when it became obvious Jennifer would not. "What has happened, my friend?" A swallow was all the answer she got, but Alabaster got the idea when she glanced at Sprint – a frightened, miserable look, which the cleverman caught, his smooth features collapsing to a frown. She could feel the dilemma inside him, the one that forced him to stay, so she took the decision for him. _~You may leave, Sprint.~_

Jennifer looked up, surprise on her face as the cleverman spun on his heel and disappeared into the undergrowth, flicked a puzzled expression across into Alabaster's eyes. A wet trail showed on the woman's cheek, and as Alabaster watched, a tear brimmed over her lids and fell, unaccompanied by sound. It would be better, she reflected, if Jennifer sobbed. Human tears were not unknown to her, and she had experienced them many times.

She repeated her earlier question. "What has happened?"

The Fair One gathered herself, and uttered a sentence Alabaster knew would come but dreaded its arrival. "I need to go back to Atlantis."


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming FLUFF. *whines* They made me do it, honest, guv. :/ On the other (off) hand, if you fangurl Ember, you might like this.

“If you really want to draw their attention,” Jennifer said, and from the way her jaw tightened, Alabaster knew she meant it, “then I'll go back down and hang around looking as if you've forgotten about me.”

Stunned, Alabaster blinked. “You would do that?”

“Will it get me back to Atlantis quicker?”

From her side, Bonewhite's features were set, hard as granite, while he considered the woman standing in front of them. Just behind Jennifer, Sprint shifted from foot to foot, misery in every muscle, the emotion bleeding across the hive-mind. A swift pang of sympathy coursed through Alabaster at the cleverman's plight. Difficult to have split loyalties, to find himself at odds with all he knew and understood. It occurred to her that, in all likelihood, Jennifer felt no better and, certainly, the woman looked, despite her defiant words, worn, thin and brittle. Her father no less so. Guide stood in the shadows, hands tense, ferocious, in tight control of murderous urges she could feel rippling over his psyche. 

“Perhaps we can consider the compromise I suggested?” The offer to transfer Jennifer to Waterlight's ship seemed the best solution, and Alabaster hoped she would accept; Guide palpably relaxed, the tang of approval following on its heels. Though Alabaster did not ask for her sire's support, it heartened her. Such a decision served them far better because she remained close at hand and of use to the alliance. “Promised Return would welcome your expertise, Jennifer.”

Doubt rested on the woman's face, and she flicked a glance across to Guide, one Alabaster could interpret without the need for assistance. Whatever drove the Fair One to make this choice it did not involve anything negative in relation to her sire. No, it became increasingly obvious her regard for him went deep. But, if she sought aid for a decision from that direction, Alabaster also knew he would not intervene. 

“I... I haven't thought it through,” Jennifer admitted. A soft snort followed the statement, and she folded her arms against her stomach, talking to the floor when she next spoke. “All I can say at the moment is maybe. I'll have to think on it.”

“Taking you back to Atlantis now would place the inoculations for the remainder of our Worshippers behind schedule,” Guide growled; his tone was tight, but she nodded in response. “I would ask that you consider the options fully before you make a decision.”

“The Commander is correct,” Bonewhite said, and the woman shut her eyes, as if hearing him could not be borne. “As for placing yourself in the way of danger, that is merely ludicrous.”

“Indeed it is.” This time Guide needed no prompting and came out from the shade, green-gold eyes fixed on the Fair One. “You are integral to this path we have chosen.”

Jennifer's head snapped back up, and her gaze said what she would not. Alabaster saw the caress as it passed between them, an embrace without the need for showy physicality. “Yeah, but if they think they can just walk in and grab me, Guide, what does that say about their effectiveness as a threat?”

He huffed, reluctant to accept the notion, but he nodded eventually. “A valid point, and the offer is appreciated,” he said, but beneath his outward calmness, turmoil thundered over a rock-strewn river bed, “except there is no need. We will find this queen without putting you in unnecessary danger.”

“Maybe you can... But...” Her jaw tightened again, stubborn, and she addressed Bonewhite and Alabaster, deliberately choosing to ignore Guide. “If I go through with it, it means it'll also be over that much faster. Then... I can go... home.”

It hung there on a breath, a whisper, and they strained to hear it. That single word held such longing, a wish for peace of mind, and Alabaster watched her father's face shut, the tight wall he so recently breached, solid and unyielding. Without knowing, she also _knew_ , he took refuge in such when her mother died, and only through determination and a desire for revenge, had he survived. Hope wasted in him again, and she could not have that. She needed him. _~Father...?~_

When he turned in her direction he showed nothing, a mask. _~Daughter?~_

 _~She will stay.~_ Alabaster placed all the firmness she could into the word. 

“Atlantis or Earth?” Guide asked, head cocked to the side, and he searched her features as if for clues.

Fleeting darkness settled over the Fair One, which she shook off almost as soon as Alabaster realised its existence. “That's the question, isn't it?”

Bonewhite bared teeth. “You should decide quickly.”

Stung, Jennifer snapped, “Why? Because it suits you, Hive Master?”

Bonewhite took a few steps closer to her until he loomed over her, but she narrowed her eyes at him, unrepentant and unafraid. “Rather that it suits the alliance, woman.” Behind her, Sprint stiffened, his teeth bared, but Bonewhite ignored the cleverman, focussed on the human. “Of more importance than a single female.”

“Well,” she drawled, and Guide watched the interchange through heavy lids, while Alabaster stamped on the urge to intervene, “you're just gonna have to wait, aren't you?” Then she took a step to the side after she favoured the Wraith with a scornful look; the Hive Master smirked. “When are we going to arrange my planet side visit?”

“So _eager_ to die.” 

“Bite me.” Jennifer bristled with violence, her eyes blazed, and Guide moved to intercept any attempt to strike Bonewhite at the same time Sprint stepped up to her side.

“Enough,” Alabaster barked, and all attention fell on her. “Jennifer idea has merit even if it is fraught with danger -” she ignored Guide's hiss, and pushed past Bonewhite to lay her hand on the human's arm - “and because the ploy could work, I am prepared to take the chance.”

“Such a rare prize to steal,” grated the Hive Master, “if you were of a mind to take it and all it offered.”

“Indeed.” Affirmation came from Guide's throat in the form of a low rumble, while he scrutinised Bonewhite, points of his teeth showing. “Who would not?”

“Screw you both...” Disgusted, the Fair One spun away, the ever-faithful Sprint less than a hand span from her. “A pissing contest? Really?” She flung back over her shoulder, “How about I just forget the whole deal, and you turn the damn hive round and head back to Atlantis?”

Alabaster hissed in alarm; Sprint's expression, shuttered.

“It would take too long, Jennifer,” Guide said, and moved to stop her flight; he placed a hand on her arm. When she faced him, he added, “Nor would it make sense to turn back now.”

“Jennifer,” Alabaster drew closer to her friend. “I know your patience is tried, but for the sake of continuing goodwill between our people I implore you to think about your request.”

Caught, Jennifer stared at them both, father and daughter, assorted emotions flickering across her features. “Seriously, after this -” she waved a hand that encompassed the whole of the chamber - “bullshit?” 

“We need you,” Alabaster admitted.

A snort of disbelief followed, but Alabaster tightened her grip, just enough for the knowledge to pass from her to the woman. “Oh... Still?” The Fair One pinched the bridge of her nose in her fingers, eyes closed as she thought, and then she murmured, “Okay... Yes, I will... think about my request.” 

“You have my gratitude.” Alabaster's skin brushed Jennifer's in accident, and a jolt surged through her synapses, a sense of such desolation she could not help the sharp breath she took. Compelled to speak, she looked into Jennifer's eyes, whispered, “There will be peace for you.” The touch of fingers on her hand came as a surprise and she tilted her head. 

“Thanks.”

Alabaster tightened her grip, hoped she could convey reassurance. “The outcome will be to your satisfaction.”

“Sure it will.” Dry as sand, the Fair One's moth twisted as she spoke.

“My Queen is correct,” Bonewhite said, his voice abrupt and strident against the quiet that fell in the chamber. “Your presence is required, Dr. Keller.”

Jennifer's head snapped up, and she glared past Alabaster at the Hive Master. “So why the hell do we seem to have so much trouble maintaining a working relationship?” Another awkward silence descended, and Jennifer's mouth twisted. “Ah, yes... how could I forget.”

“Be that as it may,” Guide said, untroubled by the need to hide behind thin, crisp, patience, “if you must insist on this ill-advised nonsense, Fair One, unless I am there to oversee all security arrangements I will not allow it.”

“Father...?” Alabaster felt she had to protest such an action, but he bared teeth at her. 

“It will lend an air of credibility if I am there.” 

“Placing you both in danger,” Bonewhite growled. “Losing one would be a crisis, both a catastrophe.”

“There is more than enough data to allow the work to continue without either of us,” Guide stated, adamant. Offering Jennifer a small bow, he addressed Alabaster next, brusque with his conclusion. “After this business has finished, I will escort the Fair One to whichever destination she chooses.”

On a low snarl, Bonewhite stalked away from them and Alabaster found herself in sympathy with him, at least in part; she believed his stance far too parochial for the singular circumstances in which they found themselves. As for Guide...? Willingness to place himself in the firing line, to use a quote from John Sheppard, surprised her. Courage had never been a quality Guide lacked, oh no. Guide had enough for a dozen other blades, along with sufficient bravado to made her teeth ache; which on its own provided plentiful opportunity for trouble. That and his bloody-mindedness attracted difficulties like no other. A fact her mother had lamented, even though she and he loved each other long and through the many challenges their relationship brought. Thoughts of Snow flooded Alabaster for a moment, and she wondered what her mother would have done in these circumstances? The young queen gave herself a mental shake. Enough. She could not rely on faulty memory to advice her, not at this juncture.

“Very well,” she conceded, and Guide's brow ridges knotted in surprise. So he expected an argument? Diverted, Alabaster said, “Jennifer, will you accept those terms?”

“My Queen,” Bonewhite protested, but she bared teeth at him and he subsided, clear frustration ringing through the link. 

_~If it has the effect we desire, Hive Master,~_ she said, and he jerked his head, a scanty agreement, but one none-the-less. “Jennifer?”

She made an exasperated noise, shook her head as if clearing it. “Look... I... I don't know. Maybe... maybe.” A soft sight came close after the inarticulate meander, and she met Alabaster's gaze. “Give me a day. I'll let you know.” Her sire took a step closer to the woman, and she gazed up at him. “Guide... I...”

“Wherever you wish,” he said, the tone low, personal, looked as if he would say more. “Whenever -”

“My Lady,” Sprint interjected, and looked to Alabaster, “if I may assist the Doctor to her rooms?” 

“Yes.” In full agreement with the cleverman, Alabaster wanted them both gone from her presence. Their attachment put her on edge, a sensation she despised and wanted to examine. “I would welcome your answer sooner, Jennifer.”

The human gave a nod, and took Guide's proffered arm, and as they left, she made her way over to her throne. She threw herself into its depths, staring after them as they disappeared into the hallway beyond. Soon as the door slid shut she crossed a leg, and jigged her booted foot. She scrutinised the leather of her footwear – cream, set off with deep bronzes, the heels low – admiring it in a detached sort of way, but slid her gaze over Bonewhite when he stood in front of her. Alabaster could do without whatever insight he had to add to the finalisation of these plans, too. She needed to get her mind in order, and a dose of whatever Bonewhite had biting him would not help. When he did not take the manifest hint, but stared back at her, stolid, Alabaster sighed and waved her off hand in his direction.

_~Speak.~_

_~My Lady,~_ he murmured, and leant forward, _~this is not a wise course.~_

_~Have you ever tried to prevent my father from doing exactly what he wants whenever he desires it?~_

~Often,~ the Hive Master said with a tight expression. 

_~With much success?~_

_~Limited,~_ he admitted, reluctant to say even that much. _~I regret to say.~_ Steelflower in all her hybrid glory and the disaster of their first encounter with the retrovirus glimmered, brief as a morning star, in his thoughts.

_~Then you know why I have decided on this course?~_

_~Yes, but it is still unwise.~_

_~That's a chance I have to take.~_ The Hive Master drew a long breath, and his mouth pursed, dislike clear. This man preferred to have his route clear cut, and Alabaster found herself in sympathy with him, again. _~Yet you remain loyal, my cleverman?~_

The sudden query threw him off balance, but he recovered quickly, and jerked a nod of agreement. _~In principle, I cannot fault Guide's reasoning, but... ~_ His voice faded, and he stared at the hull ramparts over her shoulder; Alabaster could see him slotting his thoughts into place, one by one. _~There are times when his - ~_ the Hive Master searched for a description, discarding words one after another in an attempt to find something that fit Guide's brand of Machiavellian ruthlessness, and even what he settled on she knew did not satisfy him - _~self-belief obliterates all other considerations, including caution.~_

 _~He has always been bold in his plans if not their execution,~_ she remarked, mildly, and earned another twist of his mouth. _~He has sometimes placed his trust in the wrong people.~_

 _~But not now?~_ His head tilted at her in curiosity.

Carefully, Alabaster said, _~No.~_

_~With reservation?~_

_~At times,~_ she acknowledged, and they shared a glance that said everything they did not verbalise. It lingered, the inherent emotion linked to humans, and their place in Wraith society, even if this ship and alliance worked like the Tau'ri hell to overcome it. The Tau'ri themselves would demonstrate intractability at all stages, for a long time. _~However the ends are accomplished, it will prove beneficial to all parties.~_

_~Then you regard this preoccupation...?~_

Alabaster plucked at the folds of her overcoat, twisting them through her fingers. Eventually, she reached a single word she determined tolerable _. ~Essential.~_

~xxXXxx~

Clever fingers smoothed the knots from her hair, untangling the combs and set them to the side, before reaching for the brush. It swept the along length of her hair, bristles massaging her scalp nerves with a delightful frisson. Alabaster quenched a blissful sigh; it would not do to let the cleverman know how much she relished this attention.

_~The Fair One requested a return to Atlantis?~_

_~She did.~_ Alabaster examined her talons, idly reflecting they required some attention, while she considered that not totally unexpected request, before she met Ember's curious eyes in the mirror. _~But I hope to have persuaded her otherwise.~_

 _~Bonewhite would welcome her departure,~_ the cleverman murmured in response, but kept a tight check on his own feelings, while he continued with his close attention to her hair care. How intriguing. _~I believe the Commander would have taken this news with less equanimity.~_

She tipped her head in curiosity, and winced when he dragged the brush through a tight snarl. _~You find yourself in conflict with my Hive Master?~_ A dark chuckle surprised her, more so when he shook his head. _~This is amusing, cleverman?~_

A twinkle appeared in Ember's golden eyes when he met her irritated gaze. _~Far be it from me to step outside my station, my Queen,~_ he purred.

Her mouth twitched. _~It is good to know you understand your place.~_

 _~Undoubtedly, Lady,~_ he breathed, and the ardour in his expression fanned the coal sat already in her heart. _~But we must consider the Fair One and her wish, so I would posit a question, is her desire driven by other factors?~_

The young queen huffed, her teeth bared. _~Bonewhite's overweening insistence that she and my sire remain apart.~_

A light flickered in Ember's eyes, and he drew closer, breathed into her ear. She suppressed a little shiver. _~Is this why you have sought my advise?~_

_~While not common knowledge, my cleverman, you have been.. involved. You might know Guide's mind better than many others.~_

The cleverman considered her statement and the intimacy he had shared with the Commander, while Alabaster watched his reflection. He could hardly deny the bond of closeness, or indeed the depth of regard they had for each other. More than brothers, easy with the knowledge of lovers over an inconclusive length of time. If he could provide any insight into the mire of her sire's thoughts...? 

A flash of sharp teeth told her Ember recognised and appreciated her point, though his response seemed careful. _~I know he will keep her safe, and that he desires her above all others.~_

 _~In respect of Jennifer, I do not doubt you,~_ Alabaster said, but searched him keenly. Her father's man, yes, but he was also hers, so where did he draw the line of loyalty? Exercising her right, that of Queen, to hold his mind in her grasp would be too easy, and she could glean all she wanted but, though this way meandered, it helped spawn trust. Without trust, her rule foundered; she needed it like air. _~But rather I wondered how privy you are to the finer details of his plan?~_

Amber eyes widened slightly, approval drifting to her, and the cleverman tilted his head in consideration of her question. It hit home, clean as any arrow, and she could feel the sense of it wrapping into his thoughts. He elected to say nothing, but made a soft noise partway between a growl and laugh. Whatever he thought, Alabaster wondered if he would hide it from her, shroud it beneath veils of secrecy. 

_~Lady, it is no secret that Guide would have the power rest, if not in his sole hands, at least in within the alliance he has struggled to build in the few years he has been back with us.~_

An answer, definitely. Not the one she wanted. _~I see.~_

The cleverman huffed, another soft sound. _~Since coming into contact with the Lanteans, he has changed.~_ The admission drew her attention, and she gazed into Ember's face, attempted to discern what else lay behind that assertion. He glanced away, sudden thoughtfulness entering his voice when he spoke. _~He will not relinquish the Fair One, either to Atlantis or to another faction.~_

_~She is not his to treat her so.~_

Ember's eyes met hers again. _~Not his,~_ he repeated, and the brush paused, hovered before he continued in a long stroke to the very tips where they curled round his fingers. _~I believe they belong to each other.~_

_~Ah.~_

_~Guide is an enigma,~_ Ember murmured, attention once again caught in the complexity of his task as he braided several bright strands together, twisting them to a shining rope. _~He is complex.~_

 _~Is he?~_ Alabaster wondered, and moved her head to the side; his fingers swept against her neck, warm, gentle. 

The brush halted in its motion, and he scrutinised her. _~You do not think so, and yet you are of his flesh?~_

Wryly, Alabaster observed, _~My sire is not so complex, Ember, when he has made a decision, even if that decision seems to act negatively against his design.~_

 _~You believe he arranged his involvement with Dr. Keller?~_ The cleverman gaped at her, true confusion in his green-gold eyes. 

The young queen allowed a small trickle of laughter to pass her lips, and she shook her head. _~Of the many things I know he is capable of, that is not one of them. But - ~_ she ran the tip of her tongue across the points of her teeth - _~he will not hesitate to exploit something that useful, even if he was not entangled emotionally.~_ A flicker of pity for the human woman ran between them. _~Will he also use her to exploit the Lanteans, I wonder?~_

 _~That would be an... interesting development.~_ Thoughtful, Ember inserted the silver combs, finishing the filet of braided hair, before he glanced up again from his work. _~Maintaining their goodwill is useful.~_

 _~Very,~_ she agreed. _~We must continue to work together after the inoculations are completed.~_ A restlessness filled her, communicated itself in a fidget, and he pulled on her hair by accident. She hissed at the sharp tug on her scalp, but ignored his murmured apology. _~I must speak with my sister.~_

 _~We should contact Steelflower,~_ Ember agreed, _~and see what her advise is.~_

Moving her head out of his way, she turned, met him eye to eye, their faces close. _~My cleverman,~_ she whispered, _~we must entangle the Lanteans with us.~_

~xxXXxx~

A strangled gasp rang out of his throat, echoed round his chambers, and Guide curled up, his weight on one forearm as he impaled Jennifer, holding her hip with his free hand so he could run his tongue over her breasts. Under his claws, red flowers blossomed, slick and hot, added iron to the stench of sex and sweat and pheromones that writhed around them, coiling serpent bodies along skin and limbs and minds... She arched against his mouth when it teased, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts, head back, fingers dug into his shoulders, and he reached for her, for the bright stars of her emotions. Grasped her, filled her, quickened his pace before he flipped her onto her back, snarling when she sank her teeth into his neck; Guide slammed his hips firmly against her, his release hard and fast, milked by her answering orgasm. 

On a shudder, he buried his face into the warm crook of her neck and throat, drawing in their scent as they lay in a tangle of covers and clothing that had not survived his hasty fingers. A tremble from her rapidly cooling flesh made him reach for the blankets, and he pulled them over their still joined bodies, reluctant to come away from her. They lay there drowsing, until she wriggled for breathing room and he rolled away to pull her against his chest, off hand carding his fingers through her hair, teasing out knots that formed during their frantic dance. Her hand stroked his face, lingered on the sharp lines of his face, traced the star-burst tattoo, and he met her eyes, bent his head to kiss her, his hand still again as the spark of lust flickered to life, a low hum along his nerve endings. It threatened to become more, but it would wait because he found himself abruptly pensive. 

Their breath mingled, but then Jennifer stirred against him, affected by his change of mood, and pushed back so she could see him better, gazing at him. “What is it?” 

Catching her hand as it continued to caress his cheek, Guide turned his mouth to its smooth palm, the points of his teeth grazing the soft skin until he nipped at her wrist. The tang of blood coincided with the sharp intake of breath she took, and he lapped at the marks, cat-like, soothing the small hurt. 

“What can I tell you?” he murmured, and his lips brushed a kiss on her palm, drew a line along the place where her feeding slit should lie. “If you were Wraith...”

“If I were Wraith...?” she wondered, her eyes wide and dark in her pale face turned to his like a flower. 

“You would hold me in your palm,” he said, and her brows pulled together, “if you were Wraith.”

“I could never hold you,” she said, and corner of her lips twisted to a unsteady smile, which he answered with a thin smile of his own. “You are Guide.”

“If you were Wraith,” he insisted, and curiosity lit her, “I would fall to my knees before you.” Jennifer closed her eyes, and Guide rested his head against hers. “If you were Wraith, you would be my Queen.”

A tremble passed through her, and she lay quiet for what seemed a long time, the fingers on his face still, so he stroked her palm with his thumb, searched for the sense of her he carried, and found it just as quiescent. Had he said too much? It stunned him too, this truth.

Jennifer stirred, and she pressed against him, all the curves and planes of her against his hide. “If I were Wraith,” she whispered, and he bent close to hear her, “then you would be Pallax.”

His hand swept through her hair, and then he pulled her close. Tomorrow he would let her go into danger, willingly.


	20. Chapter 20

White spiralled from the heavens, flurries of soft cold crystals spinning and dancing on sudden gusts that whipped through the close-built homes, sharp as glass. Underfoot, ice crunched, and Sprint hunched his shoulders in a vain attempt to maintain some body heat. Heavy, clouds pulsed overhead, fat with ice and lightening, full of brooding malevolence. There were no signs it would stop, either. A shiver ran through his frame, and he ducked his head, focussed on the dwelling set aside for he and the Fair One to continue their work. Thoughts of the fire crackling in the hearth spurred him on, and he squinted against flakes when they landed on lashes and flew into his eyes, the brief wetness a sharp bite on his skin.

Throwing the door wide, he ignored the shout from Jennifer to 'close the damn thing before I freeze to death', and strode over to the leaping flames. He put his hands out, in the manner he had seen her affect, and admitted there were some things humans knew about keeping warm that eluded his kind. Heat from the fire tickled the nerves in his palms, spread with all the deliciousness of life, up his arms and into his chilled torso, legs and toes. Snow gathered in the folds of his coat melted, so he dripped onto the hardened earthy floor and left pools under his feet.

“I'm not a popsicle,” Jennifer grumbled, and eyed him from the table where papers had blown out of their neat piles and onto the floor. A handful of notes reappeared in her fist, and using the table as support, she swept her arm under it, retrieving a couple more errant scraps. “You could have shut the door quicker.”

Sprint grunted, preoccupied with warmth and dryness in a way he had never fully appreciated. Flames danced, hissed a little when snow drifted down the chimney, and a word registered, one he had not heard before. 

He cocked his head. “Popsicle?”

“Yeah.”

An eyebrow arched at him. “Frozen fruit juice, on a stick.”

“Ah.” How curious. The cleverman considered such a peculiar thing. “That does not sound pleasant.”

“Hmmm,” she said, her attention more focussed on returning their notes to an acceptable state of tidiness. “Well, take it from me, they're a treat – mostly for kids, though.”

Baffled, he stared into the fire, wondering when he would grasp the minutiae of the society she came from. Perhaps, one day, he might experience it for himself? Instead of voicing the thought, he elected to exhale, sharply, which earned another hard look.

“Problem?”

“I believe the weather may hinder our endeavour, lady.” Jennifer slammed a few items around the table, which Sprint ignored, the projection of aggravation and frustration more than enough for him to keep his tongue still. “The storm shows no signs of relenting.”

“Yeah,” she muttered. The cleverman glanced over his shoulder to see her move to one of the small round windows and pull back the cloth draped across it. A draught gusted across the room, and the Wraith hugged the fire closer. “It's foul out there.”

Outside, the flurries had gained in substance, snow falling to the already frozen hard, sparkling blanket, each caught in a dance highlighted by the thin yellow oil lanterns that illuminated the narrow streets. Yes, foul seemed an accurate word to describe the conditions. It represented the reason they were there too, and Sprint struggled while conversations he wanted with the Fair One lounged on his tongue, insistent as a hunting feline. 

Rather than attempt risky behaviour, he skirted the issue with a banal comment. “You should rest, Jennifer. I do not believe you have eaten recently.” An observation he knew held true, if only because a bowl of fresh fruit sat untouched by her tablet. “I will continue with the work.”

“Thanks. I can't say I'm not grateful.” The human woman snapped her back straight, and stretched, then snagged the bowl of food in one hand and dragged a chair closer to the fire. Booted toes pointed towards the flame, crossed at the ankle. She took a bite of fruit, and observed him. “You're dripping everywhere.”

“An unfortunate result of being out in such adverse conditions.”

Jennifer made a choked noise, and Sprint eyed her when it turned into a cough. “You are well?”

“Yeah.” 

The cleverman nodded, and turned so he presented his back to the heat. Soon he would have to move, preferably before he singed, but at that moment, with the crackle of wood, and the faint hiss from dancing fire as the only sounds in the room, his position was more than satisfactory. Even given their peculiar circumstances.

“You know,” she said, suddenly, and Sprint's brow ridges creased, because, patently, he did not, “I never thought I would hear myself say this, but I would kill for a burger.” When she spotted his expression, she laughed outright. “Just a saying, cleverman.”

“I could not imagine you killing anything, Fair One,” he said, and examined her as she poked in the bowl, discarding first one piece of fruit and then another.

“Well... I have,” she said, and met his gaze.

“Wraith?” 

Her face closed and she nodded, her attention back on the bowl. “Before... everything.”

“Jennifer...”

“Don't ask, Sprint. Just don't.”

He could not stop the sigh, and cast round the room for another chair, which he spotted in a corner, its seat covered with bits of paraphernalia. Careful not to disturb the order they were stacked in, he shifted them to the floor, and pulled the seat until it stood opposite her position. Removing his coat, he draped it across the back. Steam eddied from the leather. 

Sitting, he cocked his head as he regarded her, and said, mildly, “It was not my intention to do so.”

“No,” she said, and gave him a thin smile. “You wouldn't be so rude.”

Companionable silence reigned, and Sprint leant forward, elbows on his knees, following the dance in the hearth, green and red, blue, gold, and actinic white at the very centre. A piece of wood collapsed inwards, a tiny puff of pale ash, while he waited for the conversation to begin. 

“Guide hasn't been back yet,” she said, and came forward to warm her hands as well. The cleverman waited; he knew this swam close to the surface of her mind. “He went some time ago.”

“You are concerned?” 

“He can look after himself.” 

“But yet I sense you are preoccupied,” he said, his hind-brain tickled by her all-too vibrant emotion. In an effort to calm her, he added, “It has not been so long, Fair One. The Commander knows well what he is doing.”

“One day he'll get himself killed.”

“That would be a bad day for us.” 

Sprint found the suggestion more than uncomfortable. Homeless, queenless, he had come to the alliance and Bonewhite a callow youth, just like the rest of his ship mates, naïve and uncertain. Since being with them, growth became easier, and Sprint desired nothing more than to remain worthy of the trust already placed in him. Guide must remain in control, at least for the time being, until he established himself more securely in the hierarchy, though Sprint detected a shift in council dynamics, which could upset a few of his plans. He needed Guide; he represented worthy aspects of Wraith. 

Admiration for the ancient blade had always been easy – even despite what Sprint knew existed between the Fair one and he. Now, as things slowly slotted into place, and the path towards peace would become less cluttered with pitfalls, Sprint wondered how many humans and Wraith would find a like relationship? A true symbiosis instead of the parasitism Jennifer feared they would establish. 

“He has a tendency to find trouble.” 

The cleverman snorted. Rumours and tall tales rattled through the halls of the hive, carried by Worshipper and Wraith alike, of the many adventures their Commander participated in over the span of his life. Such determination to live, such purpose and resolve to contain power demanded respect. And emulation. Even clevermen could have ambition.

“He will survive.”

Jennifer cast a look back at the door, her eyes haunted, before she took the now empty bowl off her lap and placed it on the floor at her feet. “Yeah, I guess he probably will. I mean, he's managed to stay alive for ten thousand years, so he's bound to have learned a trick or two.”

“Without doubt,” Sprint agreed, and dwelt on some of the more outlandish tales he had heard when he passed through the Worshipper's quarters. Not that they ever told him anything of note directly, but Meroc - well, there was talk of Meroc as well, as the Commander's long time human companion-come-servant, stories which went well past the span of a normal human life. “I'm certain he will also have something to report on his return.”

Resting her chin on her hand, she studied him, but managed a brief nod. “Hope so because the inoculations are waiting on his say so. I want to get the shots done sooner rather than later so I can get back to some place warm.” A few breaths later, she added, “Warmer.”

For humans, the cleverman agreed, the ambient temperature of the hive could do with being a bit higher, but the chill on this snowball planet left him stiff-muscled and irritated. Daytime hovered around -5 in the scale she used to measure temperature, and night fell another twenty or so degrees. In the thick of the blizzard, the wind chill would add to the discomfort and the lower temperature, which meant travelling across any ground would be difficult, never mind the deplorable trek from the 'gate. If the dart had not materialised him within the village boundaries, he would have been far wetter and even less good tempered.

“So basically, we just hole up here and ride out the storm?” 

The question interrupted his rumination, and he considered the options they had. There were few. A corner of his mouth twisted when he thought about heading back out into the darkness, and the snow. “I believe that option is preferable to any other, Jennifer.” Sliding a glance her way, he added, “Unless you feel the need to tackle the weather on a first hand basis.”

“No, no... I think we'll stay here.”

“Definitely the best option,” he approved and rose, hunting for something to place by the door as snow advanced into the room; he wanted to cut off the chill that came with it. “Although, we may need more wood if it is to continue for much longer.” The cleverman compromised and removed a blanket from the bed in the other room, stuffing it along the narrow gap at the bottom of the door. He jerked the thicker curtain draped to one side across and the draft eased even more. “That should help.”

“Pity there aren't more drapes at the windows.” 

“I feel that no matter how much cloth we place over these openings, it will prove less than satisfactory.”

“As long as we don't end up having to share body heat, cleverman, then that's fine.”

Sprint snorted, and started on the pile of results Jennifer had left for him to go through. The blood works seemed satisfactory, to such a point that he did not really need to do more than copy the information into the spreadsheet she left open. From there, it would not take long to factor for any interesting, useful, anomalies. His fingers flashed across the keys, and he worked in silence for some time, unaware it passed, until a soft noise distracted him. Curiosity made him glance up, and he realised the Fair One had fallen asleep, the noise a gentle snore. Surprised, he crossed to her chair, and stood watching her sleep for a few minutes, strangely flattered she felt secure enough in his presence.

So fragile. The cleverman accepted the quick surge of protectiveness, and placed it where it belonged. He had been tasked to watch over her, and so he would, to the best of his ability. Even now, with Guide so close at hand, Sprint felt his duty keenly. Failure was not an option. But this... this place and time, this thing they attempted, it courted failure, enticed it. 

Jennifer's head turned, and the sound ceased when she murmured in her sleep; he did not catch the words, but her eyelids fluttered. Dropping his shields, Sprint gave the upper layers of her mind a cursory examination, and found vague impressions rising to its surface, the face of a cleverman he did not know but she identified as Quicksilver, and how she had fed him. Imagery of Guide, and of Teyla Emmagan, Steelflower, as well as Torren, Darling's human friend. Other humans drifted in her mind's eye, the Consort of Atlantis, Hairy, and others, as well as an unexpected appearance by an angry Bonewhite. Amused by that last, Sprint knelt in front of the fire and stirred it to life again, throwing a few more logs into the hearth. They caught rapidly, and a loud bang caused her to wake and sit up.

“Damn...” she muttered; a flush stained her cheeks when she caught his entertained expression. “Sorry about that.”

“No need for apology,” he said, and took the poker to stir ash so it fell under the iron basket. “You are obviously tired.”

“Was I asleep long?”

Sprint shook his head, while he shook more ash from the wood so flames leapt up the chimney. Light flickered, tingeing the walls orange and yellow, and the shadows longer in response. “No.”

“No word yet?”

“He is being monitored.”

“I know, I know.” 

“Jennifer, Guide will be back soon.” Reassurance seemed a requirment, and Sprint would provide it if it meant she would relax. “He will not allow himself to be compromised.”

She fidgeted, gaze fixed on the door, but gave him a wan smile. “You are a good person, Sprint.”

“I am a cleverman,” he replied, because he could say nothing else, and he placed another log onto the fire. It snapped under the heat, spat cinders onto the floor, and he ground them out beneath his foot. “I do what I must.”

“You can still be a good -”

The loud thudding on the door made them both start and Sprint narrowed his eyes, gesturing Jennifer into the bedroom. Taking the blaster from the table, he moved to the entrance, and stood at its side. “Come.”

The latch stirred, and then the door pushed inwards, groaned, a gust of icy wind blasting its way into the interior. The features that peered at them from the threshold were not Wraith, but human, pinched with cold, the tip of his nose red, lips blue, snow sticking to him. A great breath steamed out of him, and he barged into the interior, bringing with him a flurry of snow and sleet that piled at his feet as he fell to his hands and knees.

“Meroc...?” Surprised by the Worshipper's appearance, Sprint slammed the door back into place, even as Jennifer hurried to his side, her hands already full of her medical kit. Whirling, the cleverman joined her, dropped to his knees, off hand on his shoulder. “Speak.”

The man's head hung, and he collapsed, rolled to his back, and Jennifer worked while Sprint could only watch. A feeding mark stood out in vicious clarity on his chest, red and gaping, fresh. Baring teeth, Sprint activated his own transponder before he leant over the prone human. When Meroc's hand fastened around his wrist, the cleverman snarled, caught fleeting imagery of the 'gate surging open, Meroc and Guide crossing the event horizon into the purple night of a desert world. In his mind's eye unfamiliar stars burned, hard diamonds in a thin atmosphere.

“Speak,” he insisted again, and leant closer to Meroc's mouth. 

“Sprint, what the hell is he doing here?” Jennifer's voice was urgent, worried, but he could not pay her attention now. 

“My... Lord...” Meroc wheezed, and his eyes squeezed tight shut, as he fought against the pain Sprint felt surging through his synapses. “The Fair... One...”

“Can you help him?” he snapped at Jennifer, more concerned with information retrieval than the niceties a cleverman owed a queen.

“In case you hadn't already spotted it,” she bit back, “that's what I'm trying to do.” A brown stare locked with his own gaze, and he huffed, bared teeth at her. “If you mean, can I keep him conscious, or miraculously heal his wounds, then that's a no.”

“Leave...”

Sprint's attention fixed on the Worshipper, hearing what he did not articulate. “As you will it.” Gripping the man's wrist, he lifted him, supporting him while they endeavoured to stand. “Get your things, Jennifer, we have to get back.”

Jaw clamped tight, Jennifer limped to the rear of the room, and snagged her coat, shrugging herself into it before collecting her med kit, and the few important items scattered on the table. The documents they spent so much time collating to neat piles were jammed into her bag, along with the tablet and the data crystals. Pale as frost, she slung it across her body, and came back to Sprint, taking Meroc's other arm, which she slung over her shoulder. 

“We better move, then,” she said, grunting with effort, and Sprint nodded his agreement. 

In truth the trek back to the rendezvous point failed to fill him with pleasure, especially as it took him into the teeth of a storm with two injured humans. Although Jennifer's ankle healed well, fast movement over rough, icy ground presented difficulties, not least that she could fall and injure herself again. Inserting the blaster back into its holster, he grimaced as he took Jennifer's medical kit and Meroc's weight on himself. But then, what choice did he have? The only security they had came from the transponder seated under the skin on his shoulder; its signal gave them a window of opportunity, the frequency tuned to the hive, which meant a dart would collect them once they reached the agreed collection point. As soon as they got back on board, relinquishing further decisions to Bonewhite seemed a pleasant outcome.

Wrenching the door open, Sprint and Jennifer moved sideways out into the thick fall of snow, wading through calf deep frosting that stuck to their legs and boots. Flat yellow light illuminated the thin street, and they moved slowly, careful of both the wounded man and of Jennifer's leg, slipped into the almost black shadows lining their path. Around them, apart from the savage wind, which howled through the narrow alleys blowing clumps of snow from roofs, and chilled bones down to the marrow, sound fell into an abyss, muffled. Progression almost came to a standstill while he made allowances for his companions flagging pace. What few reserves of energy Meroc had long depleted, his skin acquiring a waxy corpse-like appearance. Casting a look at the Fair One, Sprint feathered his mind across her, sensed weariness, the soul deep concern about Guide, and worry for the increasingly limp human that hung between them.

Reaching the thin ring of trees that outlined the village boundary, Sprint offered meagre encouragement. “A dart will collect us soon.”

She cast a look in his direction, blinking flakes out of her eyes, gave him a nod in recognition. All the same, he would be very thankful when it appeared. They kept going, dragging Meroc, his feet ploughing twin lines as they went, quickly covered by snow that fell harder, thicker, soft and suffocating as feathers.

~xxXXxx~

Such thoughts ran across Guide's mind as he meditated, full of plans, questions and possibilities he examined, discarded, and slotted into place if they were of use. Hands draped loosely over his knees, back pressed firm against the hull of the ship, he ignored the infrequent visitors that scrutinised him; he preferred to concentrate on other matters. Such as the number of times he found himself in a similar situation, incarcerated, the type of prison bar dependent upon the species he had happened to piss off, fall foul of, or be captured by, and the parade offered nothing in the way of comfort. None-the-less, a prison remained a prison, and capture capture, no matter how he dressed it up. Which, in and of itself, happened to be a very appropriate human term. Dressing this up required a deal more of his concentration than he wanted to provide at that moment.

He expected seizure, which allowed him to salvage a small amount of self-respect, but he remained both irritated and amused at the predictability of his own species. Given a choice to deal openly, honestly, they opted for subterfuge – a strategy he employed with no small amount of skill – and the possibility they could win all the takings for themselves. Wraith gambled, and the stakes were always high. 

Expediency meant he placed himself as a target, rather than Jennifer. After all, her expertise brought them to this juncture in the first place, irrespective of the catastrophe they experienced early on in the retrovirus' development. Guide could not regret the work they had done, any of it, or what developed from it. Not even the questionable emotional quagmire, which suited another phrase Sheppard used on occasion... 'shit storm' caused him a moment's hesitation. The rich image stayed with him, entertained him hugely, as did the implications it brought.

Of course, in any scenario like this, Sheppard would already have a plan to get out, which would include explosions, firearms and certain mayhem. Guide admitted the Consort's plans worked well – mostly - even if they were pretty much ad hoc. He sighed. Company such as John Sheppard would have been most welcome.

A slight sound from the corridor caused him to glance up, but he could not pierce the gloom, so he closed his eyes, and concentrated on remembering every nuance, every movement and scent of his last night with Jennifer. Leaving her had not been easy; it tore at him, but they stood to lose too much if he did not follow Okamy to the 'gate and beyond. Sprint would protect her, he knew. 

Not that placing himself in harm's way gained immediate approval. However, after much debate – and he stifled a growl – with Bonewhite and Alabaster, he managed to persuade them he should take the risk. With Meroc at his side, and his transponder already activated, he knew they could resolve this damnable issue once and for all. He had to bring all of Wraith together, and this was the only viable alternative. A loose cannon such as this queen needed stopping by any method he could employ.

The soft noise came again, and he glanced up, head on one side. Definitely not drones. The warriors were hardly light on their feet. Human, then? Could he dare to hope Meroc had been spared, might even got away from the blades sent to intercept them? No, surely not. The last sight he had of his servant was under the hand of a man he did not recognise, writhing in agony. And once again, he gave thanks Jennifer saw fit to vaccinate the hive servants with the newly improved retrovirus. For all his peculiarities, Guide valued Meroc.

Coming to his feet, Guide took a step towards the barrier, and placed the fingertips of his off hand tentatively on the bars. The organic matter gave beneath them, slightly warm, the sense of the ship running through his nerve endings. It recognised him, even there, as Commander, the faint spark of sentience responding to his touch. An old intelligence, nearly as ancient as himself. Thoughtful, Guide pondered on that information, and nearly missed the shadow moving across the wall.

Ah. So his captors decided to make themselves known.

 _~Come now,~_ he challenged, voice gruff with anger. _~It is time you made my acquaintance, is it not?~_ Silence grew, hung as if it were an indrawn breath, stifled in the chest. “Perhaps you are human?” he said, and tilted his head again.

“No, not Kine. At least, not quite.”

Guide growled, a low rumble in his chest. “What then?”

“You have not been the only ones to experiment with the retrovirus, Commander. Nor indeed the only ones seeking to benefit from it.”

There had been only one who used the retrovirus, and his name was anathema to all of Wraith. Lastlight. “Michael Kenmore died at the bottom of the towers of Atlantis, killed by Teyla Emmagan of the Athosians,” Guide stated, though he knew small pockets of resistance remained, hidden across the galaxy. Pockets even Death had not been able to root out of hiding, that defied every effort to flush. “Whoever you are, it is not he.”

“No,” the voice agreed, and stepped into the light at last, tall and slender, a queen, her yellow eyes fixed on his. “We are not that one.”

_~Then why not come to us and join our alliance?~_

_~Why should I do that?~_ she wondered, and he saw her mind then, a radioactive flame and hardened glass tempered in the fires. _~When I could take the retrovirus and the alliance.~_

Then the blades made themselves known. Resolving from anonymity, and Guide wondered how it was he had not felt or even heard them, especially when they dropped, crumpled at their feet, a human he knew too well, her blonde hair streaked red.

“Fair One,” he breathed and the knuckles of his hands turned white as he grasped the bars.


	21. Chapter 21

A face peered at him through receding fog, one he recognised at once, and with it came the tugging insistence of failure. He surged upward, and snarled as pain clamped a sizeable fist in his innards and through his head, squeezing with all the mercy of a vice. He barely registered the soothing touch of the other's mind, or the firm hands on his shoulders that urged him back down to the nest.

“Jennifer...?” he wheezed, and the hands pushed him again as he tried to rise. “Meroc, I must...”

 _~Be at ease, my cleverman.~_ Soft tones flowed across his tense nerves, and scent drifted across his nostrils, settling into his sensory pits. _~You were injured.~_

_~Meroc?~_

_~He lives.~_ Flashes of the human's injuries, the wounds, the colour of his skin bitten by the frozen air of the ice world, jostled for his attention. The scent grew stronger, and he opened his eyes to his queen leaning towards him, her citrine gaze intense. _~We have triangulated on Guide's signal, and will retrieve them soon.~_

_~The Fair One?~_ he managed, overwhelmed by sudden anxiety, and threw back the covers, to find himself forced to the mattress again. Scenes crashed into his awareness. Memories of the blue flash of blasters, the faces of warriors, and he recalled the sword that scored him, cut into his belly, sliced him with fire. Too many wounds at once for him to heal, and the sight of Jennifer, brave, fighting too until rendered senseless with the same cruel effectiveness. _~I cannot stay here.~_

A consolatory touch crept across the edges of his rolling thoughts, displayed things were not as dire as he believed. _~We will find them both.~_ Her tone brooked no further argument, but the cleverman warred with his instincts despite her calm. _~Be still.~_

 _~Lady, I must go to her,~_ Sprint objected, while his thoughts churned and his stomach roiled as though filled with too much liquid. _~She needs me.~_

 _~As do I.~_ Alabaster's eyes were warm, affectionate. Amazed, honoured, Sprint watched as she moved from the bedside to take up a cloth, which she used to wipe his skin. Had he really earned her respect? _~We are already in hyperspace, and it will take two more hops until we reach the co-ordinates.~_

Calculating the time it would take to reach their destination, Sprint chafed as she attended him, and debated his options. No choice remained open, he had to speak. _~Allocate me to the team that goes to retrieve them.~_

Alabaster cocked a brow ridge at him, her lips in a small curve. _~I believe you should ask, cleverman, not demand.~_

 _~Forgive me...~_

A soft snort caused him analyse her with care and he eyed her with a certain amount of wary caution. _~The Fair One is important to you... to us, Sprint. It is seemly that you care for her, and seek to protect her.~_

_~Even though she is not Wraith?~_

_~Perhaps because she is not Wraith,~_ she murmured, and something settled in her thoughts, light as silk, before it disappeared. He tried to grasp it, but it slipped away with fog-like transiency.

 _~I am well,~_ he said, and pushed himself to sitting, but for all his words, he had to admit to weakness when the muscles of his arms protested and trembled. Hunger flashed, raw, insistent, and he groaned with the effort to speak, coherence flying in the face of need . _~I - ~_

 _~Yes, you must feed,~_ she agreed, and gestured with her off hand to the hulking shadow standing outside his bedchamber. _~Skilt will assist you.~_

Sprint's eyes widened a little when he realised Alabaster offered one of her own retainers, and as the enormous man drew closer, then sat with the grace of a stone on the edge of the platform, he canted his head to the side in question. Truly? The glimmer in her eyes told him all he needed to know. 

_~Lady...?~_ he croaked, and at another signal the man turned towards him, the line of his broad chest naked, face quite stoic, expectant. Alabaster' gave a sharp nod before glancing away, her mouth tilted.

Meeting the eyes of the man again, Sprint shifted, slow, delicate movements that did not disturb the barely knitted wound, until he could place his palm on that naked chest and set his claws into the firm muscled flesh. Before the barbs of his handmouth latched, a grimace shivered across Skilt's features; his teeth bared while Sprint bore down and drank and drank. 

Life flowed, golden, sweet, warm... thicker than the finest honey. The flavour of summers and winters, every autumn and spring, regenerating tissue and nerves, soothing pain, aches, hunger... A cry echoed, rang in Sprint's ears, wrenched from the human's lungs, and he hissed, held the man close as a lover when he loomed across him. Delight poured in every vein, each neuron, and it did not cease, an infinite, fulfilling, constant stream of energy... Such temptation for gluttony; he could gorge all he wanted. Enough. Enough. He pulled away; blood coloured his palm, scarlet drops falling to the covers, splattered them like rubies.

Careful, Sprint released and scrutinised the retainer with detached interest. So. The result of all their painstaking work lay on his bed, snorting heavily, but undamaged apart from the gory feeding mark on his chest. No sign of ageing, no grey hairs, no wrinkles and he...? Sprint ran a personal diagnostic, checked his own limbs, found nothing other than perfect health. He marvelled at it. 

Restored, the cleverman took a deep breath, welcomed the flow of oxygen to his parched lungs, thoughts in tumult once more. Until now, what seemed a purely an intellectual exercise held no true significance other than a way to prevent starvation but, this... this experience. Realisation of its implication for both species, and what the future might hold hit Sprint with the refinement of a rock. Exciting possibilities, things that caused his stomach to leap and coil on itself, painted themselves into his mind.

All that clinical information needed transmission to a far better format than mere memory, too, and he itched to get back to the laboratory. But... now he understood the contained excitement carried by Ember, and Guide, why they, each one of the council, staked their lives. The reasons for all their efforts lay contained in a human male, lost to the waking world, in a cleverman's nest. 

Concern, also new, swept across the cleverman, so he rose from his nest and, with the ease of full strength, swung Skilt into its depths, uncaring that the man rested there. To offer solace, in the face of his life, came without the need of measure or worth. The Gift never meant so much as it did right now, and its significance stood forever changed as their union, mutuality, grew towards the foundation of a new society, a fresh way of being. Gratitude such as this, Sprint reflected, would become commonplace, and alter everything they understood about their relationship. A complex new order waited for exploration.

Shadow danced at the edge of his vision, and two other Worshippers came forward to retrieve the enervated servant, a gurney trundling between them. While they loaded Skilt onto it, he eyed Alabaster, reminded of his mission, the first task he had to complete. _~Lady, I must repeat my request.~_

 _~Yes,~_ Alabaster murmured, her attention more fixed on the man lying on the stretcher, _~you will go, my cleverman.~_ As they cleared the doors, her gaze snapped back to Sprint, the subject changed. _~This thing she has done, it is a wonder, is it not?~_

 _~Experiencing it for yourself allows for...~_ Nothing adequate came to mind or expressed the response it engendered in Sprint; it remained knotty and puzzling. He needed time to dissect his personal feelings from the exhilaration of a scientist at a job well done, to decant it into understandable jargon that would allow careful repetition. At length, he settled on phraseology that seemed adequate, much to Alabaster's enjoyment, though she made a valiant effort to hide it from him. _~An appreciation of its meaning.~_

 _~So I thought,~_ she agreed. _~There may be danger if you go with Bonewhite to retrieve Jennifer.~_

The cleverman made a scornful noise, and shrugged. _~I am tasked by the Commander to ensure her safety, lady.~_

Green-gold swept over him, tested the matrix of his thoughts, and she gave a thin smile. _~I see you will not be dissuaded, but you should remember you are mine also, Sprint.~_

 _~Always,~_ he said, fervent, and came to his feet so he might reach for her hand when she offered it. Bending over it, he kissed her fingertips. 

_~Think on the task ahead,~_ she warned, and followed after the gurney and her retainer. 

Sprint watched as she left, right up until the doors slid shut on her figure, slim and tall, red hair falling in a cloud to her waist. There was a great deal of danger, he agreed. Stepping onto an enemy hive always came with a particular set of risks, but he felt able to tackle them. In all conscience, he could not leave the Fair One to face the Hive Master on her own, even if Guide acted as a buffer. He had seen first hand how the tense relationship between them flared to bright prominence, which could distract everyone from the job they needed to complete. An extra layer between them to lessen the friction was required, and he did not mind being that. It also served his own purpose rather well.

Satisfied, the cleverman moved to his terminal, and patched into the computer system, hoping to catch up with current affairs before his presence was required. The information that Ember went to Atlantis to assist Quicksilver came as a surprise, but after further perusal, Sprint could see the sense in it. This too served them well, and brought the Lanteans closer to them, maintained links with the Tau'ri that were important. He had not been reading for long when a light blinked on the keyboard, indicating a message. Depressing the key, Sprint observed the tumbling glyphs. 

~xxXXxx~

The hive came to a halt in the magnetic field of the super gas giant that sat at the outer boundary of the habitable zone. In some places its icy blue atmosphere churned with violent storms, but the spin on its axis provided the much needed centrifugal force to separate the super-cooled gases into distinctive stripes. So far, they were fortunate, and they had not been spotted; Bonewhite acknowledged that with a certain amount of satisfaction. The giant would disrupt sensors with its strong magnetism, and provided they remained on its far side, inside the orbit of one of its moons, they could not be observed by eye. A deft touch brought the ship into exact alignment, hung it in limbo in the planet's long, jet shadow.

At the centre of the system, a furious red star burned, a baleful eye in the darkness that detailed the inner rocky worlds with ruddy brilliance. The second of these, a dust-ridden hell-hole, was their destination, and the Hive master flattened his lips to suppress a low growl. Once they made their move, it would likely alert the enemy to their presence, and then all hell would break loose. A shit storm, if he recalled that phrase correctly. At times he wished for the shield technology the Lanteans possessed, and another part of his mind calculated the odds it might become available to them at some later, undefined time? Provided they survived this particular escapade, and managed to maintain good links with the Lanteans. Neither of which offered great odds.

Amused, Bonewhite calculated those odds; he did not favour them. Too much reliance was placed on goodwill, not withholding the amount of work for true compatibility and to incorporate the technology. Just, if he chased the thought, it was nothing beyond the capabilities of the many scientists available to both sides of the alliance. Pleased at the solution, he released the controls to Sable, who slipped into position, fingers in cups; the blade descended quickly to ship-trance, whispers reaching Bonewhite while he prepared the hive for battle. 

_~Come,~_ he said, and Wintersong followed him, heading out towards the dart bay, where the other members of the small boarding party waited. _~It would prove most beneficial if we could capture the hive with as little damage as possible.~_

The tall blade gave a small jerk of his chin in acknowledgement. A lack none of them could pretend ignorance of, and its capture would add to their small coalition, especially if her men could be persuaded to join them. So many were lost through the pointless conflict. Another reason to celebrate Death's absence, the Hive Master reflected.

At times, he wondered about his loyalty to Guide, and whether he placed it in too vacuous a scheme. What bothered him most, still, he confessed, queasy, were the changes that had to come about if they were to survive. The Lanteans were stern taskmasters, and would not allow deviance from this path. No doubt they had taken blueprints from the weapon – after all, if he had been in their position, he would have - if only to ensure a bargaining point. Nothing quite focussed the mind like the threat of annihilation. He realised Wintersong spoke as they reached the transporter.

_~...It would also prove beneficial if the allegiance of the blades and clevermen would move to Alabaster, Lord.~_

_~All men need a queen to follow if their own has fallen,~_ Bonewhite stated, pleased his brother saw the situation with similar clarity, and Wintersong met the comment with a wolf-grin, all sharp teeth, no humour. None suffered illusions. Should this queen demonstrate a challenge for them, she would die. A section of him hoped she would not, but in this case, they might be left with no choice.

 _~Indeed.~_ The tone was dry, filled with longing and things that flickered in the blade's mind, a vague awareness of how their society moved, flowed, turgid, to another future. _~We already have so few queens, I do not know how we might resolve such a thing?~_

_~Perhaps the Lanteans will help.~_

The other dwelt on this as they made their way towards the great doors, which opened at their approach, the cavernous bay stretching above and below. When he replied, Bonewhite found himself struck hard by the remark. _~They have given us the means to feed safely, but why would they wish for our increase?~_

Unable to answer, Bonewhite filed the comment for further scrutiny and discourse, because this raised points of contention that needed attention. The blade meant it as a throw-away observation, but because their lack of genetic diversity presented a stumbling block, the Hive Master considered it a serious issue. 

Without queens, and the ability to breed fertile females, it would get worse. Bonewhite feared extinction would come to them anyway, that they were as defunct as the monstrous creatures he had seen portrayed in one of the computers on the Daedalus, as well as a joke overheard from one of the human technicians in an unguarded moment. Dinosaurs, and dead as those beasts. It chilled him down to his marrow, and he considered the Fair One. Her compassion meant she would attempt to help; he knew this without the need to speak to her. But would the rest of her compatriots prove so inclined?

 _~Perhaps they would not,~_ he conceded, and climbed into his dart. 

~xxXXxx~

In the cell opposite the bundle of cleverman's rags remained quiet except for random puffs of air that told him she remained alive, so Guide continued to pace, waiting for signs of consciousness. Congealed brown lumps festooned tangled fair hair, but no observable head wound was in evidence. He had no choice but to see if she woke before he would know if all that mess were the result of such an injury. Brief, sharp rage twisted Guide's mood – a useless emotion - so he stamped it out, favouring rationality, which ensured a better outcome. He set up an internal debate, ranged what he knew into order. He was captured. Ostensibly, so was the Fair One... Unless the hard bitch who seized them thought to play him at another game? Could that be a clone? No. Surely not. Appalled at those implications, Guide prowled the breadth and width of his confinement. Until Jennifer spoke, and he could set his mind at rest, how could he be certain who or what lay there? 

So then, where would they have got DNA for such a thing? Okamy? The Worshipper's subterfuge ran to that? He could not conceive it. Would not, if only because it meant his crew were less observant than he could accept. Frustrated, he leaned into the bars, testing them while he calculated his chances of escape, and if that truly were Jennifer, how he would extricate them both? Frankly, he had expected Obsidian to drag him for questioning and slice his mind open like a stiletto - but with none of the nicety of such an implement - except, she had not. Yet. The confidence with which she handled him spoke of great arrogance – though that characteristic was hardly in short supply for queens.

Drawing to a halt, Guide closed his eyes, and tightened his hands on the vibrant flesh of the bars, testing the harmonies that ran through the ship. If he could interface with the hive, he would glean a better sense of intentions. Something he could fix on, work with possibly. He really needed a plan – something he could implement before Bonewhite and Alabaster came to the rescue. Which he had no doubt they would.

A soft moan alerted him that she woke. Guide waited for her to reach that magical place of awareness in silence, head canted to the side, scrutinising her. She rolled to her back, one hand draped across her forehead, palm upwards, then pushed herself to a sitting position, knees drawn up in a 'v'. Filthy locks trailed past her cheek while she rested her head against her knees. 

“Jennifer,” he murmured, and hoped she could hear him. He need not have worried, as she turned her face in his direction.

“Guide...?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Oh,” she muttered, and eased herself round to give him a proper, hard look. “Damn. They got you too?”

“So it would appear.”

“That wasn't in the plan, I guess,” she said, and rubbed her eyes. When he did not deign to comment she focussed on him, arms wrapped round her knees. “Sprint? Meroc...?”

Guide huffed. “Neither are here.”

“You've got no idea where they are?” she said, and got up, ungainly as a new-born calf, then went to the bars, tested them gingerly when she reached them. Satisfied by their sturdiness, it seemed, she added, “That's not good.”

“No, it is not.”

She gave the bars another push, tottered over to the narrow bench and lowered herself onto it. “God...” A cloud of despair and deep concern ebbed around her, but it would take more than this to convince him. She glanced round her cell, and chuckled, the sound dark. “I guess they didn't want you to feed on me.”

“Possibly.”

“What other reason would there be?” she asked, and dark eyes narrowed, the glint in them steel while she assessed him. “Cat got your tongue?”

Guide hesitated over a suitable response, before admitting, “I do not understand the idiom.”

“You're not exactly telling me much.”

“Conversation is limited to those for whom it would have a purpose,” he said, cold, sharper than he liked, than he wanted.

“What?” Confusion bled at him, morphed to a curious mixture of hurt and anger. “What the hell?”

Guide changed tack, his own distrust gnawed at him with sharp fangs, cut like the knife he expected from Obsidian. “Perhaps you have a suggestion about how we might escape?”

“You're the one with all the ideas usually.” And if he had been cold her voice lowered the temperature by degrees. At an impasse, they stared at each other across the divide, but then the woman gave a sigh before she began to delve into the inner recesses of her coat. “I guess you've got every right to be suspicious, because so would I.”

“What are you looking for?” Uncomfortable with her insight, Guide gave way to curiosity. To admit to doubts about her identity opened any number of possible disagreements, which would serve no purpose. He wondered what she thought she might find because carrying weapons was not something she did in general? “I was divested of anything useful.”

She did not condescend to answer, and continued her search, a grunt of satisfaction indicating she located something. From within the depths of her coat, she produced a small case, and curious, Guide canted his head, wondered what she had. The expression she wore carried doubt, shadowed with hopefulness, and she opened it, then showed its contents to him, the tremble in her fingers noticeable. Inside rested a number of slender objects, two of them metal with pointed tips, and a couple of others he did not recognise, none of them of particular use. But still, in her eyes, a rigid expectancy that he would know how to use it. Closing it back up, she took careful aim, and threw it across. It skidded the last few metres, and came to rest just outside his cell doors. Guide hunkered down, stretched out his arm through the gap and fished it towards him, fumbling until he got a decent grip.

Secure in his grasp, he examined it. Made of fine black leather, the case had delicate embroidery decorating the edges picked out in dark green and bronze, a small clasp holding it fast. Opening it, he grunted, amused, withdrew one of the metal nail files, and weighed it in his fingers. Light, but probably sharp enough to interrupt the power flow to the cell doors if he threw it with enough force to embed it in the locking mechanism. McKay had told him of an escape, long ago, involving a hidden knife, and he could do no better than to emulate the Runner. In this circumstance, improvisation was in order, which Guide considered he was more than up to. A dagger would have been better, obviously, but as they had not got such a thing, this would have to do. Taking sight of the panel, Guide concentrated, and placed all his strength into the throw. A shard of blue light soared from his hand, and struck its target with a satisfying thud. 

“Good shot,” she muttered, and Guide eyed her as the doors creaked open; she met his gaze evenly. “We're getting out of here now?”

Just for a moment, Guide debated that, and wondered if it would be better if he acted on his own. If, however, this was Jennifer, then he needed to keep her with him. He could not spare the time to retrieve her once he completed his sabotage, and if she was not, then, well, she would be useful, if only as a shield.

Scanning the corridor that led to the confinement area, he sensed nothing heading in their direction, so he moved quickly to her cell and released the doors. Guide reached for her arm and dragged her towards him, but she stumbled, hard, and fell heavily against him. He twisted her into a tight hold, brought her upright.

Shock registered at his rough treatment, jarred like a blow. “What the hell... Guide?” 

“Come,” he growled, not caring how she resisted, ignoring her yelp at first. Only the wince and indrawn gasp made him reconsider, so he rearranged his grasp, wrapped his arm around her, off hand about her forearm. He headed towards the mainframe. “There are things to do.”

“You are hurting me,” she hissed, and jerked her arm, twisted to pull it free from the iron clasp he held it with. He tightened his clutch in response. “Guide... damn you...”

“Quiet,” he snapped, and she fell silent, fear added to the melange of emotion seeping from her.

They travelled down the darkest part of the corridors, and Guide renewed his clutch when she flagged, her feet dragging. Eventually they arrived at the nearest transporter, one that would take them into less easily accessed parts of the hive. The interface chirped softly in response when he depressed the keys, and then light enveloped them, deposited them in a deserted hallway as far from the main thoroughfare as he could arrange, and remain uninterrupted. At least until he could ascertain the Fair One's identity, which he needed to establish if only because, when they discovered his escape – their escape, he amended, reluctant to admit the instinct clamouring at him was right – they would hunt them down. On edge, he waited for the alarm to sound, which it would, all too soon. 

“Guide...”

Her voice drew his attention again, moved it from the immediate, and he gazed down at her. “What?”

“Take... me with you.”

“You presuppose I have already made a decision,” he said, and kept pushing her onwards, relentless. It surprised him, this comment, though he would admit to have considered such a thing. 

“Not difficult... to see... you're sitting on the fence.” Under his hand, her ribs moved hard as she caught her breath from the pace he had set. “I could... help.”

“How so?” A bargain? Interesting.

“If... if... you were... injured... hurt...”

“You are offering yourself as food.”

“Yeah... a regular all... you-can... eat... buffet.”

At that, he came to an abrupt halt, stared into her eyes. “We do not have enough data about repeated feeding on human physiology.” 

“Look on this as... another sample,” she panted, but her tone was bitter, the joke old. Strain and exhaustion shadowed her face, a stain on pale flesh. “Just another... sacrifice for the… greater good.”

Doubt evaporated in the veracity of her statement, and he pulled her close, relieved, offered an explanation. “I could not be certain who -”

“I guessed.” She made a tiny wet sound against his coat, and he breathed her in, glad she understood without the need for words. Dirt and dried blood swamped him, and he growled, tightened his hold, protective. “Just happy it didn't take too long.”

“Come. We have no time to waste.” A muffled noise followed his remark, and with all speed, Guide followed the route he knew led to the core of the hive. 

Turning down the adjacent corridor, he moved them along at a brisk pace, grateful the ship seemed underpopulated. A lack of crew made his life a great deal easier, and he intended to take full advantage of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nightmarish scenario occurred in which I lost all WIP when my old computer decided to die the death. Hence the wait.


	22. Chapter 22

_~My Queen.~_ Alabaster turned to face the young blade who addressed her from communications, and slanted her head, waiting for him to speak. _~Promised Return and Queen Waterlight's arrival is imminent.~_

 _~Good.~_ Tension crested through the bridge crew, each member working hard to ensure systems would respond when they needed them; Sable rested in ship-trance, filtering the work as it flowed through the ship's network. Alabaster could sense the great hive shifting, its semi-sentient core responding with the peculiar joy they felt. They were, after all, built for conflict as well as shelter. _~It will be good to see my sister.~_

Light flickered over the silver of his hair when he gave a faint bow of acquiescence, and turned his attention back to the terminal, long fingers dancing over the keys. All attention shifted to the main viewscreen, to fluorescence lighting space like a storm, a herald for the incoming hyperspace window. Energy coruscated, finally coalesced to a single point and Promised Return emerged, her battered hide obvious in the brilliance that backlit her. A collective mental sigh flowed through their consciousness, and Alabaster moved closer, brushed the faint matrix of thoughts and impressions her crew broadcast. Each strand sang a different tone to counterbalance with another, and Alabaster caught them, wove them into a whole that reflected their nature and identity. Deftly she released it, and the minds under her command exulted at her touch, combined, ready. Waiting.

The hive came to a graceful halt broadside on, holding orbit slightly to the rear, and the communications officer said, _~We have incoming communication, Lady.~_

Facing the screen, Alabaster allowed a smile to her lips when Waterlight appeared, which faded as she took in her expression. The young Queen's face appeared drawn with concern, her eyes shadowed. No doubt, like Alabaster, she hoped they had managed to see the back of conflict, and it would not occur again. But yet, here they were bracing for it once more, and the death it would bring. 

_~Lady,~_ Alabaster said, and lowered her head in acknowledgement. _~I wish our meeting came about from more joyous reasons.~_

 _~Yes, as do I. They are depressing circumstances,~_ Waterlight mourned, and from behind, her young Pallax, Bronze leaned closer, protective. _~I hoped we had done with such - at least... for a while.~_

Agreement filled Alabaster. What could she say? That she too desired more time before another conflict, before she sent men to possible death when already they were so few? _~So it is always, sister,~_ she murmured, admitting the stark, bare truth of it. Wraith always found ways to differ; this was surely no different. _~I will expect you shortly.~_

She turned away, taking the position of Primary, as surely she must in this Alliance they forged. More than that, she wished Steelflower there with them to stand at her side, the three of them strong together again. The deft touch of Steelflower's mind, her guidance, all invaluable, a true Queen in her own right despite her humanity, and with it the reason of her Consort. Yes, invaluable allies, and ones she must weave into the fabric of their coalition with ties to stand against all that would come, both now and in the future. And she did see a future, glimmering on the far horizon, as faint as the rim of light that surrounded a world before sunrise; she would do all in her power to ensure they reached that place. Doubt waved a flag, but she refused to believe they would fail. 

The view on the screen shifted, showed the exterior of their sister hive, and the sensors notified them when the bay doors opened to allow the sleek nose of a cruiser to edge outwards. She cleared the opening with a narrow margin, and wheeled, wing-edges angled high before she settled into a comfortable flight pattern. 

_~Arrival at hand,~_ the blade announced. _~Opening bay doors.~_

On her signal, Sable and Harden, one of the blades Bonewhite added to their thin number while Guide sojourned in Atlantis, accompanied Alabaster as she left the bridge. Young, handsome, lithe, he had not come to her attention before now, and his mind vibrated with intense energy, a vortex of thoughts and ideas, so only the solidity of his mental shields held back the tempest. Within him she could see the lineage of Night, a distant kinsman of many generations.

Arriving at the bay, they waited for the transporter to arrive, and its doors opened on Waterlight and Bronze, with another older blade she could not place. Not wasting time on pleasantries, she said, _~Come, we have much to discuss.~_

The younger queen fell into step beside her, their men assuming position to the rear as they made their way to the room Alabaster used for briefing. Just like Guide, she preferred the way humans conducted a conference and used a table where all could sit in open view. Swinging into the room together, she gestured to the chairs arranged around it, and then fixed her attention on Waterlight. 

_~Promise's electromagnetic field is dampened?~_ she asked, not bothering to wait for the younger woman to sit or rearrange her skirts. _~We cannot allow the enemy to see our approach.~_

 _~Yet,~_ Sable murmured, but all heard him, and for a second they attended to him. He bared teeth in acceptance, a shrug shivering through his shoulders.

 _~It is in my mind,~_ Alabaster said, certain every eye was on her, _~that one of us should venture to communicate with them first, before any attack.~_ She leaned in. _~If there is any way we could avoid this, I would prefer to take that step._

 _~Yet we prepare for conflict anyway,~_ Waterlight said, and a frown deepened on her face.

Alabaster nodded, and scanned the people in front of her. _~I do not see we have a choice._

Bronze and Waterlight exchanged a quick look, and she said, _~Then it should be us. Promise is old, and does not seem such a threat, which could mean they will let us get closer.~_

 _~Indeed.~_ Silver glinted on Alabaster's talons when she glanced at them, the jewels of finger armour winking, wood cool beneath her fingertips. _~Bonewhite will transfer darts to your bay.~_

 _~That would be acceptable.~_ The older blade spoke for the first time, and Alabaster scrutinised him. His name came to her, Lightglow, a brother to Waterlight's dead sire, Thorn, was Waterlight's master of darts and he had aeons of experience. _~We will expect them immediately.~_

 _~I did consider this would be your choice,~_ Waterlight said, and she met Alabaster's gaze, chin lifted a little. Teyla would be proud of this young woman, Alabaster thought, and how she had grown in such a short time. _~We have a hundred other to add to their number, sister.~_

Which brought their total of darts to a mere three hundred, and that would have to do. Never-the-less, any increase in their number was good news. _~That is good news and exceded expectation.~_

Waterlight basked in the praise, young enough still to take some measure of pleasure from it. _~After Death's defeat, there were many who sought refuge, and the banner of another queen.~_

 _~Perhaps so,~_ Alabaster allowed, and hoped those men would prove loyal once they knew of the plan to change the face of Wraith. _~Once you are in range we will jump to your position.~_

 _~Dangerous,~_ Bronze protested, and Waterlight snarled, displeased at his outburst – for all that, he continued, unrepentant. _~Lady, opening a window so close to Promise - ~_

 _~Yes,~_ Alabaster agreed, cutting past resistance, _~it is possible we could cause more damage, but if you are close enough to extend the umbilici and syphon power...~_

 _~... their systems will be disrupted,~_ Waterlight continued, and they shared a common glance, set on the idea.

 _~Which will allow us into the hive more easily,~_ Lightglow added. He toyed with the thin plait at his chin, silver rings glinting. _~That could work.~_

Alabaster sensed his mind sift over details, weighing each option, incorporating and discarding, neat, tidy, and exact, but leaving room for change should they require it. Yes, such a one as Master of Darts was a good choice. Blood kin made things simpler, and she evaluated Waterlight again. In the brief time they had been allies and sisters, the young queen's maturity grew beyond her years and she developed a sure touch. Victory over Death gave her gravitas, tempered with wisdom – the makings of a great queen one day.

 _~We will place Handlers here and here,~_ Sable murmured. He had relocated to the holographic display, and the system and their ships stood out on the array. A showy flash of blood green highlighted its postion against the array, in orbit around the only rocky world of the system. _~We have a small number of drones that will board once Bonewhite has opened fire.~_

Waterlight studied the schematic, and reached out a platinum fingertip, tracing the trajectory of the darts and Promise, flicked the view to overhead. _~There is a gap here we must guard against,~_ she said and pointed out a dark blank.

 _~Indeed,~_ Alabaster agreed, and made adjustments. _~That should improve matters.~_

 _~Yes,~_ agreed Lightglow, and refined it further. _~We need three hundred and sixty degrees coverage or we will fail. Hive schematics indicate it is in perfect health, and Promised Return may not hold out if she takes too much damage in the initial attack.~_

 _~It is not my intention to allow that,~_ Sable remarked, dryly, and added his own minor adjustment. _~As soon as Promise has reduced power to less than ninety five percent, we will jump to this position - ~_ and the spot leapt out at them in a flare of orange as he highlighted it - _~and bring rail guns online.~_

 _~Then we are agreed,~_ Alabaster said.

~xxXXxx~

Above, the enemy hive rose like an errant satellite, battered hull in clear relief, pock-marked with the evidence of numerous encounters. A sense of antiquity flowed from it, another ancient lost from time, and Bonewhite bared teeth. Beside him, the young queen gathered her wits, and gave him the nod; it would do well to stand at her shoulder, the measured, experienced blade, there to guide and nurture.

 _~We are receiving a transmission but no visual, lady.~_ The young communications officer turned slightly, his face lit by the static on the screen, falling white snow. 

_~Patch it through,~_ Waterlight said, and cocked her head when Bonewhite shook his head, emphatic. _~You think not?~_

The Hive Master pursed his lips, and moved his weight onto his heels. _~She insults you, lady,~_ he growled, insistent and not caring he broke with protocol. _~Answering such a summons will place you in a subservient role, and that is unacceptable. You will meet as equals, or not at all.~_

_~If we do not answer, how are we to establish close enough contact, lord?~_

Bonewhite swung round and fixed his gaze on Bronze. _~You are not supplicants or beggars, and she will treat with you on those terms. To offer something less will merely provoke an attack on a weakling. Let her wonder at your arrogance, and who this is that would speak with her.~_

 _~That may leave us at an impasse, Hive Master,~_ she observed, and her sweet face reflected concern. _~We must be close enough to allow us to grapple.~_

 _~Acknowledgement is sufficient for now,~_ he said, and pressed the idea into her mind of the sort of imperious response needed. _~You are she that defeated Death – that should be enough.~_ Pride and love piqued the minds of the bridge crew then, their devotion complete and true, adoring of their young, brave, queen. So beautiful... so young... such courage... Bonewhite's eyes scoured each man, found their attention fixed on her slight figure. _~She will answer.~_

Gravely, Waterlight nodded, and flicked her fingers. Back at his task, the young blade send a rapid communication burst, and then sat back. Silence extended as they waited, seconds ticking past, then minutes... the delay interminable. Promise edged forward slowly, sailing closer, sliding into this stranger's territory, this queen usurper who sought to destroy a peace so delicately balanced it might topple at any time. Stress showed on Waterlight in the way her fingers twisted in the cloth of her skirt; under the net gloves, her thin hands shook slightly. 

Eyes narrow, the Hive Master observed her with dispassion. Once again, Death's demise rose before him and, yes she had been present, Bonewhite agreed, careful to keep his thoughts to himself, but... While undeniable strength burgeoned within her, as yet it rang with a wild element and all the exuberance of youth; he could only guess as to what actually happened. _If_ what he believed was true, then Guide knew as well and he wrapped the consideration tighter, suppressed it. Steelflower killing Death... Now that would have garnered them many supporters but Teyla Emmagan would not. A human with the abilities to fell a queen... unthinkable. In the future perhaps such a thing might gain acceptance – only time would tell as far as that conjecture went. Oh no... Allow everyone to believe Waterlight the victor from that battle gave them more cohesion. He could not fault the reasoning behind hiding this truth.

Light flickered on the communications console, and Bonewhite gave a soft hiss. Now the game began in earnest. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bronze draw closer to his queen, shoulders back and face set into hard lines; the Hive Master took up a position to her left – not as Pallax, no, but a member of a queen's zenana and vital to her council, an older, wiser head. The deceit should work if Waterlight had the gall to carry it off but he was sure, from the brief tutelage both Alabaster and Steelflower had given her, as well as his own recent observation, she would manage admirably.

 _~Accept the transmission now, my blade,~_ she said, and firmness rang in her voice; the Hive Master allowed his lips to tilt in appreciation. A game indeed. 

She cocked her head, golden eyes fixed on the screen as it wavered and coalesced, the image of another queen forming, black-blue hair caught back in many braids, ribbons scarlet as Kine blood set amongst them. 

Full lips drew back in a sneer, and her chin lifted. _~Identify yourself,~_ she said, full of scorn, the arrogance of her youth on display. 

Disappointment welled in the Hive Master, and a sharp surge of grief bit at him, gnawed with sharp teeth. From those few words he knew the route they took; her certainty and strong personal belief sang out across the void and needed no translation. Did this young woman believe she could lead all of Wraith, in her pride and youth, towards the future, as yet uncertain, unmapped, when she could barely hold her own alliance together – a raggle-taggle force of lamed warriors? Did she believe the policies, the council of those who should advise her, but instead lead her to her own destruction with tales of glory, and her own invulnerability? 

Comparison between the attitude of the one staring haughtily across space to that of the young woman standing before him, who hid a tremor in her hands by clasping them together, underlined the path they needed to take as a species. Yes, he had doubts – still – about the finer details but overweening assurance and pride could not continue, nor could they allow future queens to continue with that position. They needed to stand firm, and adjust attitudes, build on the skills and knowledge they had. Resolve filled him. Change began with the young; he saw it by his side, and in front of him, reflected in Alabaster and Sprint, and those who would come after.  
Yes, this queen... She was wrong.

In the background, tall figures stood, almost nonchalant in attitude, but he recognised the signs of watchfulness; he was too old to be taken in by such studied indifference, and he clenched his hands, felt the slit gape in response to his rush of emotion. How long, how many times must they stand in situations such as this where there were no winners, where their natures made losers of them all? Tired, Bonewhite wished they could walk away, turn their back on struggle, which served no one, least of all Wraith already heading towards destruction. How much more loss could they stand or bear, how many more would die for the sake of pride? Or greed?

At last, he could admit, if only to himself, perhaps virtue existed in the ideas of an ancient Commander and his daughter? Maybe if they could grasp it with both hands, root and stem, bring it to fruition, make it whole and new, clean and pure... possibly they might survive and move on? Hope. He faltered... hope. So fragile, so rare, and such a precious thing to bring into the light. 

Bonewhite lifted his head, scanned the viewscreen and paid attention to the conversation, such as it was, taking place around him. Banter. A waste of words. Waterlight had as little time as any of them for rhetoric, and this time a fierce pride caught in his throat when she cut through to the quick. 

_~I am Waterlight of the line of Osprey – she who killed Death,~_ she said, and around him, Bonewhite felt her men and crew swell with the self-same pride. _~Stand down. We come as emissaries for - ~_

 _~Your fame does not spread so far, outlaw,~_ that one spat, and flame leapt across the parsecs, burning through space. _~You will find no welcome here.~_ As the words tripped off her tongue, outrage flashed across her eyes. 

Waterlight tossed her head, imperious. _~ Did I ask for welcome? Stand down.~_

 _~We need nothing of you or yours, traitor to our kind.~_

The crew stiffened at the insult to their queen, but Waterlight swept past it. _~Perhaps if you would join our alliance you might find all you require.~_ Waterlight wrung every drop of appeal she could in those few words but, from the twisted loathing on the other's features, Bonewhite knew with a sinking heart they fell into a mind of stone. Osprey's many-times daughter leaned forwards, her gaze intense, compelling. _~Come. Join us, sister. We are stronger together, and there are things that we can, and must, share.~_

The decision to hand the retrovirus to those willing to come to their banner made good sense, Bonewhite allowed, but he still found it hard to swallow. And if he did, then so, without a doubt, would they. Unless they came of their own accord, and there were few enough of those that came without question. Even those that did brought quite the to the equation.

 _~Traitors...~_ hissed one of the males to the rear of the queen, breaking ranks, and she quelled him. Waved back into place, his orange eyes fastened on Waterlight. Bonewhite growled at the threat, the sound echoed by Bronze. 

_~You suggest the vilest pollution, and we would no longer be Wraith,~_ she said, flat and full of hate. _~I am Obsidian, and I renounce you.~_

The command came then, clear, and the screen went dead, all communication brought to an abrupt, not unexpected, halt. At a nod from Waterlight, the helmsman shifted Promise into a rapid forward motion, swinging her broad flank towards the enemy vessel, weapons already humming as they charged, hull regeneration at full strength. Coming in so close would surprise the other ship into a defensive manoeuvre long enough for them to grapple with her. 

_~It is past time, Hive Master,~_ Waterlight said, and her hands moved over her console, sure and quick. 

Bonewhite turned on his heel, needed no further bidding, and set off at a run towards the dart bay. The choice was made and that one would cling to pride no matter what proposal they brought, after all. This time he allowed the bitter taste of dismay to well, and he wondered anew at how they might bring about victory? Beset, both by Wraith and human, there was nowhere to turn. Forced to endure the company of Kine as equals and accept their help when they had fought long and hard to remain Wraith – inviolate, superior, gods – they had nowhere to go. Defined by the fellowship of those around them, change came with the implacable thrust of a sword, so what choice did they have but to acquiesce? 

~xxXXxx~

Blue fire ran in conduits across the ceiling, and Sprint ducked past a set of lashing cables that oozed green ichor. Flashes burned his retina, and he blinked away water filling his eyes. Blinded for a moment, he grabbed a breath, hauled it into his lungs choking hot and full of smoke. The blaster in his hand ran slick with sweat and Sprint realised just how out of depth he was for this kind of fight. What had he been thinking when he requested... no... _demanded_ inclusion with the boarding party instead of staying behind on Promise? At least there he might have been of some use, but here he all he could do with any real precision was stay out of the way. In front of him the tall figure of Bonewhite slashed away at an enemy with delighted vigour, blood spattering his coat, a line of green splashed across his face. Definitely out of place, he decided, and made a pact to ensure the meagre skills he had were used more effectively in future.

Shadows moved like stains across the arches, ran down the walls, and the thrum of the great hive's life fluttered. Sprint caught his breath, abject fear rising in him keen as a raptor's cry. If she died, all systems would fail within minutes and with it life ceased. Every cleverman instinct in him rose in protest and his mind, so carefully guarded against an enemy hive, brushed against a roiling semi-sentience brimming with terror, its awareness of imminent destruction clogging faculties and throat for milliseconds. Then it disappeared. The heaving motion, dancing lights in front of his eyes, all gone. The cleverman reached a steadying hand to the hull, his fingers curled inwards to avoid contact, the barest brush igniting his sensitised nerves and he slumped, the pain rocking him.

 _~Cleverman...?~_ Sprint spared enough attention to see the Hive Master hurry towards him.

Lifting his offhand, Sprint waved off the concern radiating from the Hive Master. _~Power fluctuations in the grid, lord... expect system wide failures.~_

 _~Good. It worked.~_

Sprint swallowed a rush of disorientation and the bitter taste of nausea. _~Yes,~_ he hissed, unwilling to say too much in case he disgraced himself and vomited the bile his protesting stomach squeezed out. _~Very well...~_

Understanding flicked across Bonewhite's sharp features, and he touched the hull with the very tips of his off hand only to snatch his fingers away. Teeth bared, he gave Sprint an abrupt nod. _~Keep up.~_

Wits back under control, Sprint forced himself upright, and followed. Piled to one side of the hallway fallen drones lay in an inert heap, their handler thrown on top, white hair streaked green, arms hanging loose over the corpses. Shadows leaped and grew in the spill of light, sudden patches of darkness and luminance that burned hard black after-images on his retina while the sound of shots ricocheted all around. Where the hallways converged, evidence of fighting appeared, several of their own drones swelling the numbers of dead; Sprint dared not spare a look. The tails of Bonewhite's coat whipped around his booted feet as their group raced, pulling ahead, and the cleverman quickened his stride to keep up.

Winding their way through the corridors, they hurried through sudden radioactive glare and blistering smoke towards the hyperdirve; skin bubbled where it touched, almost too fast for the healing process to cope with. They swung into the atrium breathless, harried from behind by encroaching blades. Bonewhite came down to one knee, spinning to face them off.

 _~Do the job - ~_ hissing, the Hive Master shot a volley through the closing doors and one of the blades with them dashed to the panel, jamming it shut with a blast to the mechanism - _~ you are here for, cleverman.~_ In the sudden, blissful, respite, he added, unnecessarily Sprint thought, _~Be quick.~_

Eager to get the task finished, Sprint attacked it with vigour. Much as he loathed the necessity, a crippled ship did mean they could escape more easily. Such action might even prevent her destruction, and that could only benefit them all, as another hive to add to the ranks of Alabaster's small alliance gave them a great deal more weight. 

The console spread in front of him, a flower to pluck, each node depicting a system essential to the drive. Across the panel, lights dimmed, sang back to brilliance; whatever Promise did, it seemed to have a positive effect – fortunately for them. Promptly, Sprint levered away one of the panels, moving over the strands and filaments that linked the drive to the central controls, prising apart the many leads. 

_~Try not to kill us,~_ Bonewhite snarled from a position at his shoulder.

 _~Not my intention.~_ Focus. Focus. Sprint slid his hand along the housing, tracing the main conduit back to source. If only he had the right tools for such a delicate task... but he did not, so brute force would have to do. Or a knife. Even talons. He borrowed terminology from Jennifer, pushed past heavy bodies blocking his path. _~Get the hell out of my way.~_

He yanked. Loud growls greeted him when gravity lurched, and he wrestled its effect, clawing his way around the console, then decided against too many niceties and seized a cable. It writhed in his hand seeking for an axis point blindly, and he ripped it out with a tearing sound. More lights died on the housing, but nothing else. Relieved, Sprint drew a breath and ignored the battered sensibilities churning across the group so he could concentrate on the next step. If he could just reach... there. It slipped out of his fingers, so he angled into the recesses of the machine again. Teeth gritted, carefully he found the link, testing it with a pull, leaned forward as far as he could for better access. Putting his weight into it, the cleverman strained, biceps bulging as he fought with the cable, forcing it from its casing. Fluid slipped down his palm slicking his fingers like grease, and he dug in his claws, gave a final grunt of effort, a hard twist, wrist bones screeching a protest. The force of the lead coming free threw him to the floor, and he lay there winded for a moment, shaken. Scrambling to his feet, Sprint launched himself at the cable, which thrashed and spattered them with drops of vivid green, fumbling for his dagger.

 _~Some help...~_ he panted, and Bonewhite came to his rescue by kneeling on the bucking thing, hands wrapped round its width in an iron grip. _~My thanks - ~_

The Hive Master grunted. _~Thank me when you have finished, cleverman.~_

Wrestling with the conduit, Sprint sawed at the final connections and another surge rocked them. At the doors, blasts increased in number, the sound desperate as the enemy drones and their handlers tried to smash through. 

_~Cleverman...~_

The note of urgency in Bonewhite's voice spurred Sprint on, and he gave a triumphant snarl as the links finally unravelled and came free. _~Done,~_ he announced. 

As power fluctuated, then faded, the entrance bowed against the effort the enemy put into gaining ground. The cleverman eyed the red glow spreading across the fabric of the doors, estimating how long they had before they got in. 

_~Get in place,~_ the Hive Master snapped, and Sprint obeyed, hind brain kicking into gear, blaster in hand when the alarm started to shriek.

The ship rolled again and they did not wait long for all hell to let loose.

~xxXXxx~

Shrill, insistent, the alarm beat its way into Guide's skull, flayed him, twisted his guts. Under their feet, the floor tilted, shuddered, a beast attacked by flies, and he found himself sailing through the air from a massive lurch sideways. A grunt whooshed out of him when he made contact with the hull, landing in a tangled heap on the floor. Moments later, before he even managed to pull back a breath, a solid form crashed into his ribcage, the momentum throwing him back again. He shook his head to clear it, blood trickling from a cut on his lip where the Fair One's skull had hit it. Dazed, Guide staggered to his feet, hauling Jennifer up with him, weight balanced against him.

“Jennifer?”

A faint groan greeted him. “Jeez, your head's -” 

Guide made an impatient noise, cut across whatever observation she was about to make. “Are you injured?”

“Yeah... no... I'll manage,” she snapped, matching his impatience. “Just... do your thing.”

“The download -” he said, propped her against the hull, and made his way across the floor, which listed downwards, to one of the pedestals - “it needs my attention.” 

She flapped a hand at him. “For... I know.” 

He gave a terse nod. On reaching it, a quick glance showed him the data stream had been interrupted, and he strangled a growl, punching his fingers over the interface. No doubt weapons fire caused this little problem, and he worked quickly, intense, hoping he could snatch the link he needed. Another volley struck the ship, and the hive juddered, trembled, rocked him off balance for a second. Not ungrateful for the timely rescue, still, a shame it occurred at this particular juncture and not some other less critical moment. Guide continued, dogged, to run a subroutine which might pick up where the download left off. If not, then whatever he managed to retrieve here would have to do, and he would deal with it once they got back to Bright Venture. A few deft touches brought the virus he designed to life and it spilled down the connection, rabid to clear every scrap of information still in the hard drive, and wipe out the painstaking research done by this hive and her clevermen. His alliance... Alabaster's, he corrected, must be the only ones to have such information.

Another light on the console attracted his attention, and even though the outcome favoured them he did not bother to stop a hiss of annoyance. Whatever his crew decided as effective offence, they were doing rather too well and the mainframe reported system wide failure. Although somehow they managed to avoid the systems controlling environmental controls because they still functioned – which could only mean they had at least one cleverman with them. When his stomach whipped up into his throat as gravity fluctuated, he realised he spoke too soon and perhaps they had not ironed out all the issues. A thought flitted through him: inertial dampeners, perhaps? No time for that.

Behind him Jennifer retched, and then swore under her breath, a gabble of human crudity. Attention back on the panel, Guide bared teeth as he watched the light waver, die, and spark back into intermittent life. The download process slowed to a trickle, hung lifeless when the ship shook again, rolled, righted herself. Fingers tight on the edges of the terminal, pain ripped through the muscles of his arms while he strained to stay with the lean of the ship, and he grunted out loud from the effort. A yelp came from the Fair One...

“Guide...!” 

The bark of warning came not a moment too soon, and he spun, diving awkwardly behind the terminal, blaster already in hand at the sound of weapon discharge. Through smoke and clouds of mist, blue light launched towards him, passing over his head, only to dissipate against the near wall in explosive percussion. Scrambling forward, Guide managed to grab Jennifer's hand; she clung to him, wrapped her fingers tight in his grip and lurched towards him as he pulled. Another volley of fire headed their way, and he aimed his blaster into the mire, following the bright blasts as they seared the air.

“Keep down,” he ordered, taking sight and firing again. Sharp inhalations told him enough. He spared a moment. “Injured?”

“No.” She gulped air back, moved behind him and the pitiful shelter afforded by the terminal pedestal. Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he watched her grab one of their recently acquired weapons, her fumble to hold it it properly. “Winded... sore...”

“Good. Ready?” Guide fired off another round of shots, rewarded by loud grunts, and several thuds as heavy bodies hit the deck. The data crystal winked, download finished, and Guide grabbed and pocketed it. Just in time.

“Yes.”

“Use it.”

“All ready on it, handsome.” In spite of her flippancy, Guide could not help but chuckle; it rippled through him, a dark sound, while blue fire  
burst against the surface of the terminal. Beside him, Jennifer squeezed through and under his arm and took aim, sighted along the barrel and squeezed off a volley. She made a soft noise of satisfaction when the sound of a body crashing down followed. Breathless, she said, “Getting out of here would be a good idea, I think.”

“That would be wise,” Guide agreed, and took up point, gestured that she remain behind there. Scanning the entrance, Guide kept low, but when no further threat appeared he gestured for her to follow. 

They slid along the walls carefully, stepped around fallen drones and their Handler. Lucky, Guide reflected. Lucky they managed to down that one before he got to them, and just in case he was about to regain consciousness, he aimed another shot at him. The body twitched, and Guide bared teeth. It would do.

“Where now?” Jennifer asked, just out of step with him. Guide moderated his pace, but kept it fast despite her shorter stride.

“I have an idea,” he said, and took her elbow, steered her through a darkened opening into a narrow corridor. 

The Fair One eyed him, sceptical. “Right.”

“One that will not get us killed,” he added, in recognition of her doubt. “Probably.”

“Guide...”

“Fair One?” The tone mocked them both, but he allowed the briefest touch of affection to soften her name.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“An audience with a queen awaits us,” he purred, and dazed horror filled Jennifer's features as he propelled them both towards an uncertain outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hate writing action because it makes me all kinds of crazy, which is why this has taken soooo damn long. :/


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to my fab Beta, WitchyWolf.

_~Down there.~_

_~Lord - ~_ Sprint started, daring to question the order. His fellow clevermen exchanged puzzled looks and slunk on past, down the corridor the Hive Master indicated.

Bonewhite was not in the mood to be questioned. _~What?~_ he snapped, and placed a heavy hand in the centre of Sprint's back to propel him down the broad hallway. _~The dart bay - ~_

Sprint baulked, dug his heels in and swung to face the older man, fingers curled into fists. _~I cannot...The Fair One - ~_

_~Your concern does you honour, but you leave now. ~_ The Hive Master's features were set, a glitter in his yellow eyes Sprint had seen before, one the cleverman knew he should not push. The tall blade turned his back, hair slithering across leather as he did. _~We will find her.~_

Stubborn, Sprint tried again. _~She is my responsibility, and Guide's instructions - ~_

On a hiss, Bonewhite turned back, vexed, despite his tone. _~Guide is not here. I am. In this instance, cleverman, you prioritise my orders.~_

Fighting an inward struggle, Sprint managed to jerk an acknowledgement. _~Indeed, lord.~_  
Hard fingers grasped his biceps in a crushing grip, and Sprint bared teeth under cover of the fall of his hair. Glancing up, he met the blade's scrutiny with as much guile as he could muster.

_~Sprint... ~_ Some vague emotion travelled Bonewhite's face, but he growled then. When he spoke next the tone was deceptively quiet, but no less menacing for that; it put Sprint on edge. _~Return to the dart bay, cleverman. I will not instruct you again.~_

_~Lord.~_ Conscious Bonewhite's eyes rested on him, Sprint kept his gaze down, properly respectful, and dared sample the emotions surrounding the second. They writhed together, impatience, resignation, irritation, fury, all under tight control, a broth of violence he had suspected would take very little to trigger. Small wonder the Hive Master chopped and hacked at their enemies with such vigour. 

_~Do not try me, cleverman.~_ Bonewhite rumbled, and leaned in, breath hot against his ear. _~Your compatriots can drag you there if they have to.~_

Sprint could not let it go, and whispered back, _~You may need me.~_

Silence fell between them, and Sprint resisted the urge to pull away from a hand that fastened on his arm ever tighter, unforgiving, a steel trap. Pushing a blade, one as powerful as Bonewhite, in these circumstances, could well be a suicide attempt, but Sprint believed the men Guide called to his side were capable of more thought than simple, violent reaction. Even so, he held his breath, life spinning on the tip of a knife. It only took a second... a second. 

The Hive Master growled. _~Go. This one - ~_ and he gave Sprint a shake, rough enough to rattle his teeth, before releasing him - _~comes with me.~_

Meaning every scrap of respect he felt, Sprint swept into a bow, muscles relaxing from a tight clench. _~My Lord.~_ On many other hives, a cleverman could not expect to be treated so. 

The Hive master made a sound that expressed a deal of disgust, and he turned away after the last of Sprint's fellows disappeared along the bend of the corridor. _~You are a bigger fool than I thought.~_ And under his breath, he added, _~And so, apparently, am I.~_

Falling into step, Sprint judged it wise to keep his mouth clamped shut – at least for now; he did not want to push his luck. The Hive Master's precarious and notorious temper wandered into violent territory, and he preferred the idea of some other hapless being caught in its wake. As they jogged through the spilling darkness, and flashes of light from fractured conduits, Sprint focussed on the man at his side. Old. Though not as ancient as the Commander, he had an air of certainty, a cool unperturbed manner the younger man found comforting. Willingness to serve the Hive Master had never really been in doubt but with this campaign already showing promise of success, the cleverman found himself even more pleased Guide's alliance had taken him and those few of his birth hive that survived into service.

The path they took was not one in common use by clevermen, or Worshippers, and it made Sprint's hair crawl. If this had been up to him, he would have taken a far less obvious route. When they spun off into another area, which lead away from the main deck, he realised he should have more faith and know that a wily blade like Bonewhite would have more than enough tricks to pull others off their scent. Then they started to travel up, and Sprint allowed a grin to creep across his face, one the Hive Master spotted, even though they were hidden in the gloom.

_~Something amuses you?~_

_~No, Hive Master.~_

Bonewhite snorted, and turned rapidly into a dark hallway where a single, frightened Worshipper cowered on her knees, genuflecting. Gripping her by the front of her tunic, he pulled her up so she had no choice but to look at him. She gave a tiny squeak of terror, pale eyes bulging, tumbling red hair sticking to her skin where sweat covered it.

“Lord...” she croaked, and clawed at Bonewhite's shirt, palms flat on his breast.“I am yours to command.”

“Oh, I don't doubt it,” the Hive Master muttered, grimly, and hauled her to her feet, feeding hand already fixed on her chest.

Energy poured into the Hive Master so rapidly she did not have time to scream, and her eyes turned milky pale, dim, before she could have realised his intent. Laying her on the floor, he gazed impassively at her gasping for breath.

_~You have not killed her.~_ Astonished, Sprint scrutinised the woman, wondering if he missed a clue.

_~I saw no reason for it. Come. ~_ Bonewhite stepped over the woman, and continued on his way, the very air around him buzzing with new energy. He cast a look over his shoulder at the cleverman when he did not follow as expected. _~You are wasting precious time.~_

_~Do you believe we will find the Fair One?~_

_~It is in our best interest to do so.~_ Scanning the way ahead, the Hive Master moved on, Sprint in tow. _~You, though, need to prove your worth. Do not think I allowed you to join me for sentimental reasons. You will be put to work.~_

_~I expected nothing less,~_ Sprint stated, firm. Unspoken was the knowledge he would have disobeyed a direct order out of loyalty to Jennifer. _~Why did you bring me?~_

Bonewhite chuckled. _~Bait.~_

Sprint fell silent, and followed, hopeful the Second meant that as a joke.

~xxXXxx~

“Are you out of your tiny freaking mind?” 

A sharp toothed grin spread across Guide's face, and he stared down into the horrified features of Jennifer, the knuckles of her hand white from where she gripped his belt. “You might believe so.”

“Jeez, you're mad. Completely insane -”

“No,” he interrupted, “I am not.” Taking her shoulders he gave her a little shake, so hair fell into her eyes. “Do you trust me?”

“What the hell kinda question is that?” She gave a shrug and a twist in a feeble attempt to get away. 

“Do you?” It garnered him a hard stare.

“Mostly.” 

Delighted, Guide chuckled, and resisted an urge to kiss her. “Only mostly.”

“You're a bastard,” she ground out, and cocked her head at him. “So what gives?” Speculation raced across her face. “What have you seen?”

“An interesting reiteration of research begun by someone we all hate – Wraith and human alike.”

“Cryptic clues aren't helpful, Guide,” she admonished, and winced as he pulled her further into the shadows. “Careful. Ankle's giving me hell.”

He made a soft noise of annoyance and hunkered down, lifting her pant leg to check. Testing the joint with the tips of his fingers, Jennifer sucked in a breath when he prodded too hard. Puffy, warm, the flesh remained dented after he withdrew his fingers. This was a nuisance. Sitting back on his heels, he considered the options. Leave her here? Tempting though that was, if she were found and recaptured, taken off-world, then they would have no choice but to go through the whole sorry mess again. Such a prospect did not feature heavily in any of his plans. 

“This may hurt,” he said, having reached a conclusion and centred his feeding hand on the sore spot, hoping a focussed burst of The Gift might just swing the tables in their favour. Under his palm, Jennifer's flesh changed shade, looked healthier. 

Fingernails dug into his wrist and left deep half-moons. “Understatement much.”

Glancing up, he saw a tear track its way down her cheek, and she rubbed it away against the shoulder of her jacket. A smudge showed on her skin and then she blotted her nose against her arm. “How does it feel now?” 

Gingerly, Jennifer placed her foot flat on the ground and leaned into it, putting her weight into it. She gritted her teeth, but gave him a nod. “Better.”

“Good.” 

Resting her shoulders against the wall, she poked him with a forefinger before sliding to the floor. “So. This research...?”

“Yes.” Guide thought through the brief glance he had managed of this hive's data. “A name, my dear one. Michael.”

“Tell me you're joking,” she said, and her face was paler than before. “Please. Oh holy shit.”

“I would not joke about something of this nature.”

She waved his remark away. “I know, I know. Sorry.” A range of emotion wandered over her face, disbelief, fear, concern, all of which Guide could admit to for himself. “How in the hell -”

“Ideas do not necessarily die with their progenitor.”

She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, and groaned softly. “Dammit all to hell... why couldn't he just... stay... dead.”

“Lastlight is definitely dead,” Guide said, and tore a strip of cloth from his under-shirt, which she snatched from him with an impatient growl and began to bind her ankle. “I do not doubt that.” He helped her finish tying the bandage with a neat knot, and surveyed their handiwork. “Will that assist you.”

“Yeah.” The woman prodded at her ankle, winced slightly, but gave a final nod of satisfaction. “You ain't half bad, nurse.” 

Guide snorted at her, and rose to his feet, helping her up. “I was unable to retrieve a great deal, Jennifer, but what I did looked most disturbing.” An unnatural quiet spread through the ship, alarming him, and Guide lifted his head, questing along the narrow paths of telepathic relays, unwilling to do more than test them with the very lightest touch. “I do not need to tell you that we cannot have such enquiry reprised.”

“Gods no,” she agreed, emphatic, and caught his hand when he extended it, keeping close as they moved along the wall edges.

“Then for that reason we must find this queen, and do what we must.” 

“You intend to kill her, don't you?”

“I see no other alternative, Jennifer. These ideas are dangerous. We cannot allow them to proliferate.” She fell silent, and Guide knew she dwelt on the inherent differences in their society. “No more than any human society would allow a dictator to live if caught.”

“It's hard to accept,” she said at last, as they rounded another corner and continued the long slog to find Obsidian, “that justice in your society is delivered summarily -”

“Our lives are harsh... were harsher,” he interrupted, and they came to a halt before a transporter, one of the few functioning it seemed. “Food was scarce – always. Only the fittest and cleverest survived.”

“Your species doesn't have the monopoly on starvation,” Jennifer said, and her eyes glittered. “Some are able to move past that crap.”

Toggling the controls, Guide's fingers moved across the console, features impassive. This was where he knew they would always differ, that the perspective of their individual species could never match. “We are what we are, Fair One.”

“Well, just because you've always been this way doesn't make it right.”

“We were not, once,” Guide said, and they shimmered out of existence and back before he finished speaking. “Once, we were too few to risk our population in such a way.” A weighty silence followed, but Guide knew she would want to pick at his statement, so added, “Now is not the time to become involved in a debate.” He studied her, noted the martial light. “We will have this conversation, but not now.”

“Damn straight.” A hardened stare met him head on. “Now where?”

“This way.”

Lightening flashes of blue light followed by hard shadows that seemed almost solid surrounded them as they moved, the eerie silence unnerving. Beside him Guide could feel Jennifer's fear coasting through her, a pressure that built in him too, one that threatened to fracture his concentration. In this half-light, she could barely see, and it added to her anticipation, a creeping, unbearable sense of foreboding. 

Fighting past the distraction and as delicately as he could, he coasted telepathic tension, knowing they could not hope to get away from an oncoming group whose own fear amplified the already too prevalent emotional fallout. He skinned the uppermost layers, withdrawing as quickly as he had entered, taking with him a random thought that had filtered through of the leading cleverman's psyche. Ephemeral but useful, and an idea took shape. 

“Quick,” he snapped, and they ducked into a niche. 

Ignoring Jennifer's surprised yelp, he placed his hand over her mouth, clamping it tightly enough so she got the message. Careful to make not the slightest sound, Guide eased his blaster from its holster and released Jennifer's mouth when she nodded her assent. All he could hear at first was the tiny wheeze from their breathing and then, clearer, came the sound of boots, amplified as it bounced from the walls, enhanced by the clevermen who now broadcast with the subtlety of a hammer until it all but approached an enveloping cacophony. 

Taking a risk in the small time allotted to him, before those others got in earshot, Guide leaned down and whispered, “Trust me, little one.” 

“What?” Understanding and fear wrestled, flickered brief as a will-o-wisp in her, and she lifted a hand to his face; Guide seized it, pressed a brief kiss to its palm. “Guide...”

“The dart bay – go. Do not get caught.” She gave a silent nod, but clung to his fingers for a fraction longer.

He headed off and took a single glance back, watched her retreat into one of the hallways. Focussed on the job, Guide considered his next step. Lead them away, give Jennifer time. And if he managed that, then, well, a successful day. Mouth twisted with glee, Guide ran at the group and their drones, then slipped back towards the brig, which took them by surprise. The emotion fluxed, pulsed with confusion at first, torn, so he fired at a conduit. That snapped their attention exactly where he wanted. Flame flickered along the wall, but he raced into it, ignoring the burn of hot air when it scorched his lungs and flesh, even though pain made his eyes water. He grimaced, carried on, could feel the energy in his body deplete while he healed.

The choreographed pursuit through the close-knit corridors continued for some minutes, twisting and turning in the maze. Not certain how far away he got, Guide halted and took cover behind a column. Close on his heels, the group would catch up soon so he had to take a few more down. As they hurtled round the apex of tunnels, one of the clevermen presented him with a perfect target. A sweet spot at the throat, bare from a tattered collar and ripped leather. Eyes narrow, Guide's grin sharpened when he squeezed the trigger. He only waited long enough to see the man crumple to the deck, then turned and ran.

Charging down the corridor, he hurled round a corner, listened for the thunder of feet as they surged after him, took aim again, took a drone down and targeted the Handler. Exposing himself for a second, Guide ducked behind the cover of another pillar, and fired, hitting the leader smack in the centre of his chest. Almost as soon as the mental link severed, the drones stumbled about, confused, blocking Guide's aim. He gritted his teeth, but fired again, let off a number of shots in quick succession. More by luck than any particular skill some hit home, the stricken men jerking in nervous response when the blaster interrupted neural pathways to send them crashing to the deck. 

Guide gave a satisfied hiss - now they would come after him rather than an, as yet, anonymous human - and circled to an offshoot that would lead him back on his tracks. Rage fuelled them and it gave him just the edge he needed, one he would exploit mercilessly. The desire for revenge, unthinking and blind, lead to mistakes. Mistakes he relished as an old warrior. And, if in their arrogance, they were certain of victory, then so was he, but for very different reasons.

~xxXXxx~

Bonewhite pushed the cleverman hard against the wall, and gave a mental order to remain still. Damn the youth. Did Sprint truly grasp he was there on sufferance? Peeved barely touched the surface of his mood, and the Hive Master's patience, already bordering on non-existent, fled in terror. As soon as the sounds of movement passed them by, he let go, and moved away, scanning the corridors, listening.

He held up a hand when Sprint began to ask a question, then studied him. _~You are only here because you would find a way to separate yourself from your brothers -~_ he took a step closer and stared into the youth's golden eyes - _~ and I prefer not to mount a rescue for you as well.~_ Chagrin crept across Sprint's features, and he opened his mouth to protest. _~Don't bother to deny it.~_

Bonewhite stalked in front of the cleverman, unwilling to engage in further conversation, but he could sense the younger man's energy threatening to burst through his doubtful control. It was a matter of time before he did something hot-headed. Did he really have time to coach more seemly behaviour into the boy before either of them got killed? Somehow, the Hive Master doubted it, but he hoped he would live to regret his decision – a far preferable outcome to the alternative. 

A myriad thoughts whirled around Sprint, most of them subliminal, but a few filtered to the top. For the most part, they examined the role he had with the Fair One as confidant and assistant, as well as what it meant to be in such a position. Bonewhite found himself in some affinity for the confusion the youth struggled with; she surely caused a great deal of disturbance. Fear and a sizeable quantity of ambition also galloped beside each other towards the winning post. Like all good Wraith, Sprint did not appear short of a driving need to out-perform his fellows, and Bonewhite knew this propelled him as much as any other reason or his seeming empathy for a human. He wanted more than anonymity; he wanted to rise in rank to Ember's second. A worthy ambition, one that could see him move to another hive some day. Perhaps even into the favour of a queen?

So how could he fault the youth for his dreams. The Hive Master sighed, contrasting his own early years. Every bit as driven as this young Wraith, which gave him permission to ease off the pressure. After all, having the cleverman where he could keep an eye on him helped.

They turned into one of the antechambers where a few dead lay, and Sprint moved forward with a swiftness that impressed the Hive Master. No waiting for orders, then? The young Wraith's fingers moved across the console, tracking and assimilating data, his whole attention fixed on what he tried to find. The Hive Master hovered at the entrance, keeping watch, all too aware time was not on their side, and though the cleverman worked at speed it still felt as if the universe would end sooner than this. Perhaps the dead could yield some information as well? He crossed to the nearest cadaver.

_~Lord...~_ He looked back at Bonewhite, a glint of sharp teeth in his expression. _~I know where the Commander is.~_

Bonewhite stopped rifling through a corpse's clothes, and cocked his head. Interesting. _~Do you?~_

Striding to the dais, he tapped a few keys, and snorted. Oh yes, there was a trail; Guide left hints so subtle most would believe them glitches, but not to those who knew him well. It seemed their estimable leader had decided to go after this queen. Which did not surprise him at all. Throughout their long, admittedly, fraught association, Guide had never been one to take the easy option, and wanted all his pieces in place. Yes, he could understand the reasons behind this chase, but he deplored the need for it. Where there never reasonable alternatives? 

According to the schematics, the trail of bytes lead to one of the chambers set deep in the hive. One in use more commonly by Worshippers, and a place visited only on rare occasions by either blades or clevermen. Bonewhite had visited similar places only a couple of times in his life – which was more than enough. Corpses were stored there before disposal, and those that dealt with them lived close by in its Stygian darkness.

_~Lord, this place...~_ Sprint's tones carried more than a hint of disgust, and Bonewhite sympathised. 

_~We have no choice but to follow, cleverman.~_

_~Indeed.~_

A quiet sound captured Bonewhite's attention and he jerked his head at the entrance. Taking up a stance to one side of the door, he readied his weapon, and gave a nod of approval to Sprint who had set his shoulders against the wall. A small group headed in their direction, no more than three by his reckoning. A human female, two Wraith, clevermen he guessed. Their energies shifted, ill-defined at the moment, just... a few... more... his fingers tightened on the blaster, trigger finger slick... moments... 

“What do you mean?” 

Bonewhite recognised her voice before he saw her, and he saw Sprint's mouth stretch into a wide grin. 

“Jennifer,” that one said and made a grab at the woman's arm just as she drew close to the door. The Lantean made a tiny choked sound and wrapped her arms round his neck, an embrace the cleverman returned with obvious reluctance, conscious of Bonewhite's rampant disapproval. “You are well.”

“No... no, dammit, I'm not.” The muffled sentence reached the Hive Master only because he strained his hearing. “Guide's gone off -” 

“This much we know, Fair One,” Bonewhite interrupted, and she let go of the cleverman, gave him a little shove so he took a step back. 

Swinging to face him, she cocked her head. “Not news then?”

The Hive Master scrutinised her, noted the worn edge, dark shadows, the filth on her clothes and skin. “Hardly, Doctor. You know Guide would choose not to leave this alone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don't I ever.” Her shoulders slumped, and she lost balance. Alarmed, Bonewhite reached out and caught her before she fell, but she pushed at him. “I'm okay.”

“Clearly you are not,” he said, irritated to find out he needed to nursemaid yet another before locating the Commander. “You have been injured.”

“No more than usual.”

He gave a snort, and after guaranteeing she could stand on her own, the Hive master eyed the two clevermen who attended her. They stirred uneasily under his gaze, but it was Songster that spoke up. “We came across her heading for the dart bay, my Lord.”

His gaze shifted to the woman. “How fortunate for you.”

“That's me. Lucky.” The Fair One gave an eloquent shrug and arched a brow at him. “Let's cut the kumbayah-yahs for now and go find Guide.” 

Unable to glean any specific meaning from her phrase, the Hive Master agreed the one thing they had to do was find Guide. “Sprint has tracked him,” he said, and they crowded round the younger Wraith. Songster and his brother, Note, cocked their heads, interested. “And Guide has tracked the upstart to this area.”

His claw tapped on the screen thoughtfully, and Jennifer traced the route Sprint highlighted for them to take. “What's down there?” she asked, and all the Wraith exchanged a quick glance. She caught the looks, and stared hard at Bonewhite. “Someone going to tell me what's going on?”

“What makes you believe I will take you?”

“The same reason you want to keep Sprint with you,” Jennifer snapped, and lifted her chin in clear challenge.

Bonewhite gave a bark of laughter, and saw anger drain from her, swiftly replaced by worry, as well as an answering amusement. “It is an experience I cannot truly explain,” he said, and wondered just how she would fair when she saw the true nature of Wraith.


	24. Chapter 24

The deck bucked again, kicked upwards when the stricken hive attempted to break free of the umbilici tying them together. A hiss escaped Alabaster's clenched teeth, but Promised Return rode the attempt to escape and moved closer, leached power coming from the enemy hive in drips and dribbles. Glyphs tumbled down the terminal monitor and validated what she already knew at the gut level, that the enemy floundered. Return's hull regenerated with the consumption of stolen energy with an almost perceptible, greedy, relish. She spun on her heel and strode across the floor to get a better look from the portal sat high on the wall. 

From where she stood, solar prominences lit up the contours of the two battling hives and cast long shadows to fall across their own hull while below, the sphere of the planet showed in stark relief against inky, star-strewn space. Swift arrows dipped and twirled on their way to intercept others vomited from the side of the enemy hive, bright slivers and sudden darkness that wheeled in seeming confusion. She sucked in a breath, fingers clenched in the folds of her skirt, when a pilot swerved too close to the hull of the stricken hive, veering away at the last second in a daring display. Too close. If she focussed she could see debris floating, spinning away from the broad flank, its trajectory ever onwards unless something else got in its way. The battle continued to tumble, here and there a flare when a pilot fired weapons. A bright jet streaming from the hull sent her scurrying back to the monitor.

Fingers skipping over the interface, data poured in. Atmosphere spewed from a rupture, and the hive struggled to bring containment online. This could spell disaster if it could not be controlled, and Alabaster seethed with restlessness; too many people at risk. If only she could be there. Talons gripped the terminal, sliced through its flesh to the hard framework beneath. No, no, no, no... She toggled for communications, needing the expertise of her third in Command.

Gamester's worn features coalesced. _~You see it, my lady?~_ he asked without preamble, and Alabaster nodded.

_~Your solution?~_

_~Songster and Note have been redeployed. They have a Handler with them -~_

_~How many drones?~_ Drones were not simply fodder; they cost a hive much in the way of resources. Another concern.

Eyes narrow, he consulted information she was not privy to yet. _~Six,~_ he said, glanced up, and held her gaze. _~If they cannot repair the breach..._ ~

Holding her off hand up, Alabaster stopped him. She already knew the implications – who could not? _~Then we must work quickly,~_ she growled. 

Gamester inclined his head and disappeared. One thing she could claim without any sense of pride was her men were well trained and for that she owed Guide many thanks. Turning her attention back to the console, she watched information pour in. The rip had grown – not massively, true – but soon enough it would be beyond repair. Either they fixed it, or they left. At the moment she favoured the latter course of action even if they lost a valuable resource.

_~Things go reasonably well, my Lady, ~_ a weary voice said, interrupting her queasy surveillance, and she threw a glance over her shoulder long enough to see Wintersong come through the doors and stand beneath the arc of the window.

_~Except for that, my blade.~_ Wintersong's attention moved onto the data flowing over the terminal monitor, and he rewarded her with a low snarl. 

_~I will return,~_ he said and started to make his way back through the doors.

_~No...~_ He looked at her over his shoulder, a frown between his brows. _~No need, Wintersong. Please, what is it you wish to tell me?~_ Genuinely happy to see him, Alabaster allowed warmth to creep into her tone, and calmer, she moved to join him. _~The enemy darts are in retreat?~_

_~Yes.~_ The tall blade offered a slight bow, his attention on the panorama above, the weaving shapes, the sudden flashes of all too bright fire swallowed by vacuum. His mind feel expressed satisfaction, even pleasure. _~We have them in the grasp of our hand.~_

Alabaster allowed her mouth to twist in wry amusement. _~Feeding hand...~_ she murmured and when he chuckled, enjoyed the brief respite of tenderness between queen and man. They watched together in silence for a few moments. _~Is there news of Guide or the Fair One?~_

_~Your sire has not yet been located, lady,~_ he said, and there was bona fide regret in his voice. He added quickly, _~Our last communication with Bonewhite indicated the Fair One found and safe with him.~_

Somehow she managed to control the surge of relief, and hid it with a small, nonchalant nod. _~Excellent.~_ Not fooled, Wintersong kept his eyes lowered, and Alabaster grinned in appreciation at his efforts to ignore her youthful rush of emotion. Perhaps, if they were truly fortunate, the Lantean had an Ancient guardian watching every move so she would remain safe despite her insistence on throwing herself in the way of danger. _~When will she arrive?~_ The silence that followed her question made Alabaster lift a brow ridge. _~What?~_

Wintersong squirmed visibly, apology written over his handsome face. _~She refused to return.~_

Alabaster gave a disgusted snort, and shut her eyes briefly. Was there no end to this idiocy? Oh, she knew very well why the woman chose not to come back, and she cursed her stubborn, thick-skin. Neither of them were any better than the other, and together they caused huge amounts of trouble. 

Somehow she managed another composed response. _~I see.~_ Initial desire to throw something under control, Alabaster said, _~Keep me apprised, Wintersong. We cannot afford to lose Dr. Keller; she is crucial to us.~_ Things twisted, in a manner all too common when Guide factored into an issue, but they could hardly be blamed on the messenger. Control. _~What other news do you bring?~_

More than pleased to have sidestepped the subject, Wintersong launched into a description of recent developments, to which she loaned half an ear. It made her heart sing to know they managed to save a planet of humans from possible destruction; it would allow them to annex them into their herd and improve genetic variation. Hopefully so it could benefit both their species. The offer of help with healing was only one small area where they could work together. So, and she sighed, in that respect, this small aspect could be termed a victory, though one far from completion. No, that would not happen for some time because integration took patience. First, though, they needed both Guide and Jennifer back.

_~Our losses are not so great,~_ she mused, taking his offered tablet and perusing the figures; Wintersong gave an affirmative grunt.

_~Better than we could have expected, lady.~_ He accepted the instrument back, stowing it in a pocket.

_~Or hoped...~_ she added, and moved back to the terminal, fingers skipping over its surface. Nothing more untoward captured her eye, so she motioned for him to leave. _~Go. Return to your duties.~_

_~As my Queen wishes,~_ he murmured, and caught her hand, kissed her fingers. 

Alabaster watched as he went away, reconsidering her previous perceptions about Wintersong and his place. Aspects of his personality began to show, which hinted at greater depths than she previously believed, ones she favoured, and she had to consider that when thinking of whom to pick out as the sires of her next children. Low key conversations with Jennifer about the subject revealed just how far from their human ancestors they had moved. She gave a soft snort, swept the previous information from the monitor with a few hand strokes, then opened a secure communication channel to Winterlight. More children, yes. But another time.

The small screen flickered to life, and Alabaster nodded at the image formed there. The younger woman looked harried, troubled. _~Sister. ~_ Concerned, she asked, _~Is all well with you? Wintersong has brought me the latest information, and it seems we fair well.~_

Something glittered in Waterlight's eyes, and she hesitated for a moment. _~On one front, yes. ~_

_~But something bothers you?~_ The question hung between them.

_~It is... disturbing.~_

Alabaster cocked her head. Eyes narrowed, she said, _~Go on...~_

_~My cleverman obtained only fragments, so nothing is certain,~_ the young queen said, almost reluctant, and she met Alabaster's gaze. _~Lastlight.~_

Alabaster sucked in a breath, and expelled it. Who had not heard of that one? _~What of him?~_

_~This hive... its scientists... they have reprised his research.~_

_~The proof?~_

_~Sending now,~_ Waterlight said, and her fingers did a dance across her own terminal. 

Fixed on the data stream, Alabaster watched the files download and she opened them with reluctance, dreading the content. She bared teeth while she read. Waterlight had spoken true; very little remained and at that, they were only a few heavily garbled lines of code. All the same, she saw those clues which so alarmed Waterlight, and her hand bled ichor while she wrestled with emotion. The mix of human and Wraith DNA with all its implications both fascinated and nauseated her – thoughts of children again flitted through her mind. Was this what Lastlight sought from his repulsive creatures? Her mind raced and it seemed Guide remained as important as ever. Her mouth twisted in wry appreciation; he always clawed his way back to the forefront. She needed both the Fair One and her sire to work on this to ensure it disappeared from the annals of their history. The scientist in her twanged in horror at such a radical and final move, so she added an addendum. If need be. 

_~It is untenable.~_

Waterlight's voice dragged her attention back to the viewscreen, and she met her sister queen's gaze with a hard stare of her own. _~We must recover as much information as we can.~_

_~But not destroy it?~_ The question and guarded expression on the young woman's features shouted what she did not say. 

_~Not immediately,~_ Alabaster confirmed, and Waterlight gave a slow nod of understanding.

A bright flash lit her from behind, and she turned away just as Promise jerked, and she spun back, hair flying, a pitch-dark nimbus. _~Fire at will, sister,~_ she snarled and the screen went blank.

~xxXXxx~

Gaining the attention of the small cortège Obsidian took with her really had not proved difficult, Guide reflected, but fortune had smiled for him in respect of their lack of efficiency. Time to catch him, time to interrogate, meant time for him. He changed position, as much as the bonds would allow, limbs protesting from so long in such an awkward position, then reminisced fondly on the enthusiastic manner they used to capture him. The physical violence, every bit as extreme as anticipated, left him nauseous, nearly too concerned with healing than guarding his thoughts. That had, perhaps, been a miscalculation on his part. Still, object achieved - Jennifer got away.

Cold. Cold. Guide shuddered. Stripped of his armour, pants shredded, he rested his chin on his chest, forcing himself to reserve energy. Each tiny lurch of the ship brought an unwelcome reminder of his mortality, jolting unhealed wounds to seep green blood. Steadily growing in size, a small dark pool reflected enough for him to make out her shape, restless as she moved back and forth, the stench pungent enough to cut through the chill. It reeked like raw meat. A pang needled through his knees while cold from the floor crept into them at a even rate; another small reminder he could not allow himself to remain in their control for much longer. Plus his lungs rattled every time he drew a breath.

And time passed. Slow. Glacial as it crept past and tied him there.

Vicious poison-tipped barbs stabbed through his head again, darting along neural pathways, seeking further information, which he wrestled to conceal. The scalpel she called a mind dissected him, neat as any surgeon, as he thought it would, and now she held him in a firm grip, kept his head bowed. 

Implacable force.

Agony.

His bones were glass. They shattered. Remade. Dissolved in acid. Again. Again.

Only. What. He. Wanted. Her to. See ... Only that... No more... No more... Pressure eased, withdrew from that delicate place, pushed experimentally. Obsidian made a sound of disgust; it echoed in his skull, piercing. Guide fled deeper, allowed her to perceive the ruin she left of him. Breathing became arduous as she experimented, toyed with other autonomic functions, delighting in her ability to shred and burn, but, despite that, never once watched where she trod, or how she did so. It left tracks, hints that all was not well with her, and Guide, locked in a place only he knew how to access, observed. 

How long now? How long? Secure behind his screens, Guide pieced together a framework. It felt like years, but he knew that could not be true. Centre on the pain. It gripped him with iron jaws. It seared and jolted, felt good, reminded him of tasks yet undone. Ah yes... Hours. Not days. Hours. He slumped when she withdrew totally, left his mind naked, seemingly empty, and he groaned. Teeth gritted, he allowed his awareness to move gingerly into the space so recently vacated, examined it with care. 

Luckily for him, vanity stopped her probing in depth; she was too certain she dominated every one of his processes. Well, therein lay her folly, as keeping his skin comparatively whole for so long a life meant he had learned more than a few small tricks of his own. Not to mention all those years spent at the hands of the Genii - whose inventiveness for cruelty left him impressed. 

Here and there, where her control had faltered, he discovered areas of omission, places somewhat weaker than their fellows, and he gathered the data close. All were flaws, imperfections ripe for use, things to sear her own neural paths. So, not invulnerable. Not what her designers hoped and wanted, but terribly flawed. 

A shadow passed in front of his vision with swish of skirts, impatient footsteps that indicated her control slipped further. Another impression reached him through the fog; she waited for her men to return with news of her transport. To whisk her away, Guide thought, studying the lattice holding him fast while he had the time - and her attention moved elsewhere - testing its boundaries, the bright lights of its nodes. Grudgingly, he admitted she was a thing of genius and he marvelled at her construction. 

Such fine work could not go without admiration, even if she was the seed of destruction for all he strove for. The raw material supplied by one such as Teyla spliced with Wraith DNA gave her mental strengths seen on rare occasions – strengths often the cause of death of both infant female and dam. All the same, supported by hybrid resilience, her mind glimmered like banked coals, white hot in some areas but undeveloped in others, the radiance made of star stuff and with all the energy of a nuclear explosion. Only like a super nova she would burn too quickly with just the right push.

At the edges of his sight darkness twisted, unresolved shapes distorted by drifts of smoke that coiled through the small chamber. The thoughts of those... things, however, reverberated with barely a flicker of sentience; animal minds tied by instinct rather than reason. Disturbing, garbled, fever-dreams reached him, threatened to drown him with impressions that spiralled around each other but had no central thread. More of Lastlight's inheritance, no doubt, and bound to her the same as any blade or cleverman. Hisses and a change in the way the shades jostled along the floor snapped Guide back from their seductive embrace, and he listened hard. Someone else entered the party. 

_~My Lady, we must leave now. The enemy is upon us, and we cannot risk your capture.~_ Guide dipped his head further, every muscle tense. _~Come, my Queen.~_

The tone the man used cajoled, almost whined, in the hope of her compliance, fear underlining his thoughts. A terrible rage shivered in her, barely controlled, and Guide was struck by the sense of an impending storm; once unleashed it would shrivel those around her. He felt her attention shift onto the unfortunate blade.

_~This one hides from me,~_ she snarled, and stepped closer to Guide, wrapped her fingers in his mane of hair. He did not resist when she dragged his head upwards; the beasts moaned a response, a thrum of disquiet. An indelicate probe wormed its way into his brain, even as she silenced the pitiful things he knew were her kin – blood brothers, failures. _~I_ will _find it.~_

Impatient footfall scuffed to a halt. _~We do not have the time to spare, lady. Kill him and be done.~_

That last was spoken more bravely, more certainly, and with a disgusted noise she pushed him away and turned on the newcomer. _~The Worshipper brought mere details, nothing more. How can we refine the work without what he knows?~_

_~Or bring him with us,~_ the other growled in response and drew closer to her, unflinching, _~I care not, but we must leave.~_

_~You are neither my sire nor Consort -~_

_~No, ~_ the unseen male snapped, and light cut off, his large shadow falling in front of Guide, _~I am not. I supervise you, madam, and in this you will heed me.~_

Suggestions whispered across the edges of Obsidian's rage, smoothed it towards rationality and calm, logical alternatives to the violence quivering inside her head. So the furnace had controls? Guide ruminated on the conditioning they used; his fingers itched for the chance to dissect her fascinating brain and learn more about her inception. And him. Who was this blade with the mind of a sun rising on the horizon?

She made a soft noise and shook her head, as if to remove the buzzing of an insect flitting round her head. _~No.~_

A battle for control ensued, and Guide shuffled into the background to watch. Melted against the shadows, he edged out of range, attention fixed on the mental struggle. Unobserved, he allowed the unknown male to carry him along in his journey through Obsidian's heaving emotions, piggybacked as that one triggered certain responses, dampened others, and rifled through her mind with neat precision. There were areas, Guide noted, of particular interest, and he filed them away. Hazily, he perceived the background moans dropped in frequency, distress in every note as if the monsters empathised with their sister, their restless shifting amplified.

_~Lightbreak,~_ she moaned, and rocked on her feet when he slid through her barriers, locking down a violent response to his intrusion. _~Do... not...~_ She panted, hands clutching at her head, wailed, _~ Stop... stop... stoooop...~_

So that was the way of it? Built in fail safe for unknown factors, to ensure some kind of control. Guide withdrew from the struggle the way he had come, careful to leave no mark or indication he had ever been there. It might take two of them to take her down, but if Bonewhite turned up – and he had no doubt sooner or later the Hive Master would – then there was no reason they could not do exactly that. A hideous solution to a hideous fact, but one with real world applications. How many times had he considered the possibilities of control, the ability to master a queen without violence? Could it be this research presented such an opportunity? Guide managed to choke back a laugh; he did not need them to recall his presence. 

_~We have no more time for this,~_ the one called Lightbreak snapped, and with all the force of the well-fed and healthy, came after Guide.

With nowhere to retreat, Guide staggered to his feet, and threw everything he had into the vulnerable area the blade so unwittingly highlighted in Obsidian's brain. If he could cause some damage now? Anything. Anything at all. Embers flared, billowed with the desperation of his effort, white-hot, a burning jolt to blacken and sear all in its path.

The blade called Lightbreak howled with incandescent fury, realisation dawning in him when she went slack-jawed with shock, and he launched himself at Guide, a missile of pure rage. They thudded together into a seething mass of flailing arms and legs, and pain ricocheted through Guide when his feeding hand latched on his chest. But strength came from a dark place, one he embraced like an old friend. Too many times in the past, too many to count, to recall, when he learned from each and every one. Gripping the thick wrist, he ripped his palm away and falling to the side, Guide kicked out with his legs, catching Lightbreak on one of his knees. He rolled out of the way as the blade fell to the deck, unbalanced, and pushed up and away to the exit. 

Before he got too far, a heavy weight crashed onto his back, and sharp teeth clamped through the flesh of his shoulder, mangling it when they ground down. Stifling a roar, Guide spun and fell to the floor, every scrap of his last remaining strength in the motion, twisting so the beast landed awkwardly. If he could break its neck? The creature lost its grip when he came to rest, pinning it under his body, then gave a gasp and lay quiet. But all he could sense was wetness, the dank slip of blood as it bubbled from his wound. Agony, agony... it lashed through his damaged shoulder. He would die here. He would die...

_~My Lord! They come.~_

_~Then take her, fool.~_ The shout fractured what tiny portions of thought were left, and he plummeted towards darkness.

~xxXXxx~

“Sprint,” Jennifer hissed, and the cleverman dodged back into the alcove where she hid. Fingers tightened round his wrist, and Sprint followed her down when she dragged at him. “Damn... didn't you hear me?”

The cleverman hissed back at her. “We all heard you.” She had the grace to look sheepish, and mollified, he whispered,”What?”

“Where the hell are we going?”

As they had gone deeper into the bowels of the ship, Sprint noticed how the Fair One stuck close to him or Bonewhite, in spite of her odd relationship with that one. Not even a hint of the camaraderie they shared typified that relationship – they dwelt in an uneasy hinterland of mutual respect and circling suspicion. No easy place to build kinship, he mused, and thanked the all that somehow he and Jennifer had overcome many of the obstacles in their way. Not all, he amended. There were still plenty of differences they needed to address before either of them could be said to have defined a true friendship. What they had for now, though, would suffice. 

“Storage,” he said, uncomfortable, and steered away from her narrowed eyes. Behind their nondescript brown, he could see her brain ticking away, connections and assumptions examined, discarded, suspicions raised. A white line showed around her mouth when her lips tightened.

“Oh?”

Loaded, the word struck him hard, leaving traces of smoke in its path when it ripped past his shields. How quick the mood turned against them, shifting from fear to condemnation in the space of a heartbeat. “Things change,” he murmured. “You know this.”

“Not for some.” The phrase was tight, hard.

“They will, Fair One.” 

“Well,” she muttered, and shifted position, settling back on her heels, “I suppose I should hardly be surprised.”

“This is not our hive or our alliance,” he said, and his fingers curled around her wrist, hoping to convey a meagre comfort. “Fair One... you should... prepare.”

Something flickered across her face, too swift to place with any accuracy, and then it disappeared, tucked beneath a stiff façade. “A charnel house...” 

In the silence that followed, Sprint avoided her gaze; their breath sounded, rasped in the confined area, plumes of steam. Time passed. Apprehensive and chilled, Sprint shifted position and calculated how much longer he could wait, how long he could take the risk of remaining in this one small spot? What if the Hive Master did not return? What if they were left here? The cleverman braced himself for a decision and then Bonewhite's face appeared, carved in granite, a weak glow illuming sharp cheekbones. Beside Sprint, Jennifer tensed, her heart a rapid thunder until she recognised him. 

He beckoned, but growled only for the benefit of Sprint. _~Come.~_

Jennifer did not move until Sprint jerked his head; they slid out of the alcove, and into step with the Hive Master who moved along the edges, silent, blaster in hand. His eyes shone when he cast a glance back at them to ensure they followed, but made no further comment. In front, the corridors stretched away, winding through the bowels of the hive just as the intestine of any terrestrial creature, jack-o'-lantern flashes of wispy blue lighting their path, mere bursts of brightness that came and died before they left a trace on the retina. 

Every now and then, flickers burst from fallen conduits, lit up the passage with actinic fire. The ship bucked in response to heavy thuds that echoed, the floor suddenly shifting. Sprint grabbed Jennifer, and they landed against the wall, gasped for oxygen when the jolt knocked it out of them. Bonewhite hissed at them.

“We're closer.”

At this depth, frigid air bit them, the usual soft mist astringent, sour, a thin rime covering the walls in places where shadows lay thickest. Beside him, the Fair One shivered, and wrapped her arms round her frame, eyes fixed on the gloom in front of them, though every now and again she peered into shade, straining to see what lay beyond the wall-like darkness. Coming to a halt before one cavernous opening, she peered into its depths, features whitening until smudges showed on her skin and emphasised dark bruises under her eyes. Sprint placed a hand on her elbow, unwilling to let her dwell on what she had seen, hoping the contact would snap her out of her sombreness. They hurried down the path he had marked out, led by an increasingly ferocious Hive Master, skulking past open rooms with frosty shrouds, ropes of tendrils catching their shrunken contents to walls and ceiling. In all honesty, Sprint expected fear as her reaction to their circumstances, but all he sensed was a bone-deep sorrow offset by physical weariness.

That concerned him, because Bonewhite did not slacken the pace, increased it even, and he spared only a glance at Jennifer's set face. Humans did not have the capacity for this kind of exertion, something they often forgot, and this small woman struggled to keep up with them. He marvelled at her stubbornness. Without it, she would have given up a long time ago, and returned to the relative safety of Venture. Steel ran through her, a solid resoluteness to see this to the finish – Guide would term it courage; he did not know if he could allow such generosity. All-in-all, she reacted to her surroundings without complaint, stifling emotional responses, and drew shallow breaths through her mouth, corners puckered in distaste. He could appreciate her dislike, especially when it filtered through his sensory pits and locked into the receptors at the back of his throat. Yes, the odour was... acrid, clinical in nature, the taste metallic. But still... he watched her...

“You'd think I'd be used to it,” she whispered when she noticed his curious examination. Sprint gave a slight shrug. No doubt she had smelled worse things, and while the place was definitely unpleasant... Jennifer managed a grimace. “It's a personal thing.” 

“I see.” He did not, not really. And besides... _~Lord,~_ he said, worry finally getting the better of him, and hoped the Hive Master would hear him. _~The Fair One cannot sustain this pace.~_

The answer was a short growl, but Bonewhite came to a halt, allowing the cleverman to indicate to Jennifer she could stop. _~She should not have come.~_

The Fair One required no interpretor on this occasion. “Just...” She heaved in air, and spat out the next words with vehemence, “Go to hell, Hive Master.”

Bonewhite grinned, and scrutinised her harder. “Perhaps we are already there.”

She stared at him, but rested her head back against the wall, knotted hair in a ragged bundle, and closed her eyes. “How long?” she asked, apparently having taken long enough to remain calm.

“Longer if we continually stop for your benefit,” Bonewhite said, dry as the bone he was named for, and locked gaze with her when her lids opened a crack. Sprint winced, waited for the inevitable fallout. He slanted his head, torn between curiosity and cringing shame, and studied Jennifer. Nothing, not a whisper, except for a bleak look as she studied the Hive Master in return; she remained silent, mouth tight. “At least,” the Hive Master remarked, dismissive, “you know when to hold your tongue.”

Sprint moved closer, willing her to stay quiet and not rise to the dangled bait. It seemed he need not have worried because, though she boiled like a kettle, she won the struggle and gave a snort of derision. Grateful for the reprise, the cleverman covered the moment as fast as he could. “Are you rested?”

“Yeah.” She accepted his arm with a nod of thanks, and threw a glacial look at Bonewhite who bared teeth further in appreciation. “Not finished,” she muttered, and Sprint found himself wondering quite what she meant?

“Come then,” Bonewhite growled, his smirk wider, and they headed off down the tunnels again, twisting through narrow openings. 

Eventually they made an abrupt turn into a larger area where the temperature plummeted to below zero centigrade, the diaphanous lustre on the walls more noticeable, spread like capillaries over the surface. Even the odour decreased, reduced to nothing more than an irritating tickle in raw sinuses, the biting cold numbing any leftover sense of smell. 

The Hive Master came to a halt. A jerk of his chin sent Sprint scurrying to the other side of the room, shoulders against the wall, while Bonewhite shoved Jennifer behind a buttress. She ducked into place without a squeak while cleverman and blade took up position either side of the door, and Sprint considered the decision to dispense with Songster and Note. Had that been wise? His stomach churned, reminding him again he had no talent for fighting; he was no blade. He was a scientist. Not that the brothers would have been any better, he allowed; they were technicians, after all. At a time like this even Bluewater would have been preferable, he thought, dour. 

The Hive Master eyed Sprint with a cool glint, as if he knew precisely what went through the cleverman's head. _~ Make sure you aim at the enemy, and do try not to kill me, boy.~_ Mortified, Sprint acknowledged the comment by ducking his head, resolute he would do better than not kill such a remarkable man. Bonewhite grinned, all teeth, no humour. _~Excellent.~_

Bonewhite slapped his hand down over the sensor, and the doors opened, at first slow and then gathered speed until they gaped like the jaws of a feeding carnivore, followed by a rapid surge of energy bolts that dissipated into thin air. Without bothering to wait, Sprint covered the Hive Master, and headed into the cavernous opening as that one ran into the mêlée. 

A drone lurched out, staggering from weapons fire, and Sprint took it down with another shot, throwing himself to one side when it fell in his direction. Crouching, he edged over the threshold, and bolted for cover when claws swiped at his head. He span round. Claws reached for him again; some demented, twisted thing, skin black and shiny, snapped slavering jaws. Forced into a tight spot, Sprint slipped and fell, hitting his back and the creature launched itself at him. And then there was an aureole of bright fire that outlined the leaping form. Once. Twice. The beast's weight crashed on his chest, and he grunted. A scrabble of feet alerted him. Hissing, he turned his head, expecting to meet another of the things, but came face to face with Jennifer.

“You OK?” she asked, and started to push the body off him.

“Yes,” Sprint wheezed, and helped. “Bonewhite?”

“He's over there. Fighting. Ugh...” Jennifer made a noise of disgust. Gore covered her from hip to chest. 

The corpse rolled heavily onto the floor, and the cleverman pulled himself up. He rested for a second, then grinned at her. No, he really had no skill as a fighter, but a part of him still relished it. “Many more?”

“Not that I can see.” She edged forward, looked over the top of one of the benches set round the room. “But I can't see for shit in this light.”

“Humans,” Sprint muttered, disgusted, and poked his own head over the top. Grunts of effort punctuated the air, but nothing alerted him, there was no sense of presence; they were alone.

Bonewhite moved in deadly precision, attacking ferociously, pent up fury exorcised in brilliant swordplay, his movements swift and certain, metal singing on metal. Blood spattered, and the Hive Master turned, black robes swirling as he brought the blade round in a shimmering arc. White sparks showered, gloriously brilliant. Bonewhite twisted away, left his opponent exposed. _~Cleverman... now!~_

Sprint winced. The mental shout reverberated, set every nerve jangling, but Sprint scrambled to his feet, bringing his blaster to bear on the blade pursuing Bonewhite. Beside him, Jennifer anticipated his movements and took aim, utter resolution on her face. “Screw that, you bastards. If anyone's taking him down, it's gonna be me.” 

They fired in unison, and the blade stiffened mid swing, then dropped like a stone. Bonewhite thrust down hard, neatly severing spinal cord and cutting the main artery in his neck. Blood spurted, slick, oily – not even Wraith could come back from that. Jennifer gave a low growl of approval and a little shocked by her display of fierceness, Sprint gawked at her, then shook himself together to glance over at the sweating Hive Master, who stood in the centre of a pile of meat, blood dripping from the point of his sword. 

Something caught the cleverman's eye in the middle of the room. A long hunched shape, all angles and raw flesh, lay on its back, beneath it a crooked glossy thing of chitin. Taking a step forward, he peered at it, attracting the attention of both Jennifer and the Hive Master. That one glanced up from the task of cleaning his blade, eyes narrowed while he searched the darkness for any other challengers, but then focused on the Fair One, who stood stock still, growing realisation on her face as she stared at the form on the floor.

“What?” he snapped at her, while Sprint put it all together, unable to move or speak. “Fair One...?”

In the faint glow, the cleverman made out a starburst tattoo, the coiling clan marks that adorned his grey skin. _~Guide.~_

The Hive Master moved fast, sword forgotten, clattering to the ground. Went down beside the body of his friend and Commander, a twisted grimace pulling his lips away from his teeth. _~Alive,~_ he snarled, fingers pressed on the large artery in the long neck. _~Just.~_

Sprint managed to grab the Fair One as she rushed forward, swung her back hard against his chest.  
“Jennifer, NO!” The expression she turned to him spoke more than words, and he almost swayed, tempted to help her however he could. Then common sense took a firm grip and he shook his head, emphatic. “No.” He tightened his grasp, leaned into her. “Not yet.”

“I need to get to him,” she said, and struggled against him, but Sprint wanted her calm. 

Bonewhite cast a look up, his features set in stone. “Let her come then.”

Shrugging him off, and on her knees, Jennifer ripped at the tattered remnants of Guide's undershirt, slim hands fumbling at first, then pushing it wide open to expose the bloody wound that ran from sternum to right hip. “Bad,” she said, and water dripped from her nose; she dashed the back of her hand over her face. Guide groaned under her exploration, eyes flickering open at last, no recognition in them. “He needs -”

“To feed,” the Hive Master agreed, interrupting. “Stay with her, cleverman.”

“Lord -”

Bonewhite cut him off with a snarl. _~I must go after her.~_

Sprint growled, but bowed. He understood very well, so he turned to Jennifer, whose attention was taken up by her examination of the Commander. Already she had taken his feeding hand, and settled in closer to him, splaying the long fingers over her chest as she leaned down. A part of him wanted to stop her, but could not. Would not. This was her choice. She gave a muffled grunt when talons set against her skin, slicing through material, handmouth latching to her with mindless instinct. And then he reared up and over her, bearing her to the floor, pushing her down, forearm ramrod straight as he fed, wounds healing as life flowed into him. The Fair One bore it, whimpers emitted through gritted teeth, while sweat dripped from her forehead, one hand clamped in his hair, and the other wrapped round his wrist, blunt nails carving lines in his flesh. She only screamed, a piercing wail of utter agony, when he pressed too hard, all his weight on her sternum. Galvanised, Sprint dropped to the floor beside them, and prised at Guide's hand. 

_~My Lord... My Lord... enough, enough...~_

Only then did recognition return to Guide, and with it realisation. With more will power than Sprint ever saw demonstrated by another, he wrenched his hand away, and clawed it to a fist. Red smears covered her breast, runnels of scarlet, matched by the colour of his palm, bright and wet. 

“Jennifer.” He made her name a cough of anger, of revulsion, and struggling to his knees, Guide gathered her up against his chest, nesting her in his arms. “Fool,” he said. Head resting in the crook of her shoulder and neck, her body limp as rag, he did nothing more for a moment, a tremor in his muscles.

Sheer force of will got him to his feet, and Sprint helped, supporting them both as he carried her to a bench and lay her on it. Wheezing, he looked Sprint over, pupils narrow slits in green-gold, while round him emotion churned. Revenge ran clear as a stream, and a cold fury Sprint hoped would never come in his direction. The cleverman bowed his head. He knew what was coming next.

_~Bonewhite?~_

_~Gone after her, Commander,~_ the cleverman answered. If only they had Jennifer's medicine bag. That would have any number of things she could use, not least water. Or some of the rations she always kept on her person. _~Not these last ten minutes ago.~_

_~Look after her,~_ Guide commanded, and Sprint bowed, watched him lurch off in the Hive Master's footsteps.

As if he had any real choice?


	25. Chapter 25

Off hand supporting his weight, Guide made his way down the hallway in pursuit of the Hive Master. Two-thirds down the hall, he stopped and pulled air into his lungs, heart hammering with exertion, and probed along the recently healed wound delicately. Under his fingers thin new skin covered it, friable, prone to ripping from sudden movement, and right now he forced his body too much, both to comply and heal. He would rest. A few minutes, that is all. Moments. Guide set his back against the wall, mind surging ahead, and shut his eyes to reduce the sensory input. Jennifer strayed into his mind.

Again, she became food. After all they strove for, in spite of trappings and technology, in spite of newly forged friendships, Wraith were still creatures of instinct. _He_ was still a creature of instinct. Such dichotomy never existed before that chance meeting with John Sheppard. How had the choice of life and death concertinaed to something that bit at the deepest nature of Wraith? Centuries of life packed with memories, and the certain belief humans had limited use, that they could never stand as equals – despite knowing the truth – come to nought, challenged by a single encounter.

Grudgingly, he allowed the Genii had a place in engineering this particular chapter in Wraith history. He coughed a laugh, holding the wound. A treacherous people even by Wraith standards, so how could he extend gratitude, if indeed, it could be framed in such a manner? How far, in real terms, had this journey taken them? Would it ever be far enough? And the Fair One...? Guide grunted, remembering when he mocked her for compassion so long ago; he never realised how he would rely upon it. Or upon her. 

Pain rocked him, threatened to turn his bowels liquid. Guide drew in a breath, nearly choked on the acrid stuff that seared his lungs, and closed his eyes against it. Each hack threatened to pull the wound apart. Head pounding, Guide crystallised to noise and light, flickering visions... Alabaster as a red-haired hellion, his own youth, so long ago, Snow... oh Snow... beloved, lost... McKay, Sheppard, Teyla... and Jennifer's translucent face flowed like paint over canvas, last, by no means least, dark lashes thick on her cheeks. An effigy cast in marble, still but for the faint movement of her chest, all veins mapped in delicate tracery under her skin, the merest blue stains. Yes, he fed, and too deep, but she would not suffer again. Ever. He swore it.

He poked the wound, impatient, and snarled. Teeth gritted against further vocalisation, Guide stamped on his irritation. A more cautious examination revealed its healing acceptable, if not complete, and he recovered it with the rags of his shirt. It would do. Pulling himself upright he headed down the corridor again, slipping through insubstantial phantoms of writhing smoke and fancy, trickles of light passing over his frame like water. A thing of darkness, a nightmare, every killer instinct clamouring and building, he moved silent as a moth. Senses afire, he coasted the turmoil surging through the ship, its crew in disarray, no sense of the queen it looked to held its fragments together. Its agony beat at him, electricity along his nerves, white-hot. 

Below his feet, the ship lurched, the dull thumps of weapons fire against the hull rocking the fabric of the hive, and he clung to a close by buttress, staying upright through sheer force of will. As soon as the tremor subsided, Guide set off, more certain, questing ahead for the telltale signature of Bonewhite's thoughts. That subtle path only they knew. And where the Hive Master went, so went he. No choice. Simple fact. Many a time he had cause for gratitude to that one for his tracking skills; too many times to count, too many times to recall with any true accuracy. And this was no instance to distrust those skills that served him and their hive so well. An old game that had served them well and one they played out many times, except now their quarry was no human. Sensing ahead, the barest whisper called, and he grasped at it, tenuous as it was. 

Pleasure flickered, highlighting the flimsy tendril. Distinct, sharp, he could not doubt where it originated. Guide moved with more certainty towards his end point. Coming to a crossroads, he hesitated for a second or so, tentative as he followed the narrow cord spun between himself and Bonewhite. If he had found the Hive Master, all well and good, but if he had been captured by that abomination then Guide could guess what might await him once he got close enough. He could only hope she had been damaged enough by his blind, undirected strike. But it left a question unanswered, which would have no solution until he drew close enough to sense her despair. Guide calculated the odds anything he had managed to achieve as minimal and the effects must have worn off a long time since. Unless by some extraordinary circumstance good fortune found him on this occasion. His mouth twisted. Hope at this late stage? Miracle...? No. Belief did not extend so far as to think such a thing would crash over the horizon this time. They had had their fair share of those recently, wrapped in the shape of Steelflower and Alabaster.

Amused by his own conjecture, Guide slid into the left hand corridor. Ears strained to pick up so much as a rustle, he heard nothing at first apart from the groans of the hive's infrastructure, low rumbles of distress that spoke of building pressure and hull damage. A surge of unadulterated agony left him gasping, unable for a second to separate where the sensation came from – was it his or the hive's? But it was alien, similar but different. Any Commander, any, would recognise the pain of a ship, even one not under his control and deal with it effectively, but injured as he was... Unsure if he could control it, Guide wrestled it back, quashing the sensations until they became bearable. Then the camber of the floor shifted up, and he clutched at the wall, wondering whether this time he made the right decision? Not quite healed, not at full strength... he might well hinder Bonewhite rather than help? Had he committed them both to failure?

Then other sensations drifted to him, strung out and thin, faint echoes of snarls beyond his ears, the high pitched whine of metal when it struck metal, and injuries forgotten he charged ahead. Coming to another turn, he spun round it on the toes of one foot, fingertips grazing the wall as he launched himself. A stark tableau greeted him, silhouettes cast in rime, tumbling, twisting shapes.

Illuminated by sparks, the Hive Master's coat swirled, a step back, one to the side, in nimble precision, great sword a gleam that burned across Guide's retinas. A strike sent crystal sparkles shooting through the dark, and Bonewhite met it, parrying the blow, pushed away, ready for the return and with an upward swing lopped off his assailant's hand, weapon still grasped in clawed fingers. A glossy arterial spray followed its arc to land between his feet where a heap of clothes lay still, sprawled spider limbs coated with thick green. 

Roaring, Guide travelled across the room and leapt, catching Bonewhite's assailant by the throat to bring him to the ground. They fell, locked together, wrestling to gain control, twisting until Guide managed to straddle the other male, mantling his feeding hand against his chest. Light flashed, bright, metallic, nicking his flesh, and warmth spread over his skin. He had not heard the whistle of the blade as it came down, stopping mere millimetres from his neck, but now sound returned and broke through the green haze before him. 

_~Bonewhite!~_ Silver hung in place while his breath sounded harsh in his ears...The blade wavered, a slight breeze kissing his hide, the fine hairs of his nape in salute. _~Stand. Down.~_

_~Guide.~_ Not a question. The other leaned down as if he needed proof, scrutinised him, the sword still poised. 

Teeth bared, he snarled at the Hive Master. _~Who else?~_

Bonewhite ignored him; the points of his own teeth returned the snarl. _~Another enemy.~_

Guide grunted, meeting the Hive Master's hard yellow stare, dismissing his reasoning out of hand, before focusing on the man beneath him again. Orange eyes met his own, pupils thin jet strands, hate clear in them. _~There is much to learn.~_

A noise made the Hive Master swing back to the bundle on the floor, reaching for his blaster. It scrabbled, clawed, tried to drag itself away. He stepped across it, and pushed with the sole of his boot, thin lips curled into a sneer, before aiming a shot at her. A blue nimbus briefly lit their surroundings. _~Your suggestions for this?~_

Guide coughed. His injury twanged like caught wire, hot, throbbing. _~She is useful.~_

The expression on the Hive Master's face belied that comment though he did not speak, choosing, instead to search the shadows. _~Well, best be quick,~_ the Hive Master observed, eventually, fingers touching the hull briefly. _~This ship will not last.~_ His attention returned to Guide and the other male. _~Kill him.~_

Guide shook his head. _~This one is also useful.~_ He gave the blaster in Bonewhite's holster a significant look. _~But unconscious, eh?~_ Dead did not suit his purpose, but he would enjoy removing life when all lines of enquiry were extinguished.

The Hive Master grinned. _~Indeed.~_ Slipping the weapon into his hand, he aimed when Guide moved out of the way, an almost tangible relish permeating the atmosphere. The blade's body arched, bucking with the current that flowed through it.

Tilting his head, Guide scrutinised the man, and how best to manoeuvre him. Mindful of his injury, he pushed off the floor dragging the unconscious blade with him. _~How many of us remain?~_

_~A few clevermen, no more than ten blades, Commander.~_

Guide threw a glance at his second. _~So many?~_

The Hive Master grimaced, hauling his own burden to her feet; she sagged at the knees but he gripped her at the waist where she hung, limp as seaweed. _~Only those necessary.~_ Shouldering their burdens, they moved off. _~The dart bay, Guide.~_

_~A logical choice, Hive Master.~_

Changes in the structure of the hive's corridors made the return trip longer, definitely more fraught, but Guide dared not hurry. His injuries throbbed with each step, flame running through his nerves and muscles, reminding him he needed to feed. Deep, dark thoughts kept him company as they meandered, concerns lit by Jennifer's face... so pale and drawn. Ruthlessly he ground them to silt, determined to focus on their end point; there was always time for recrimination later. Focussed, he knew that with a bit more, often evasive, luck, Sprint would have taken charge and moved Jennifer as soon as he could so they could get off the ship in relative safety. It made no sense to wait on those that might not return and she was far more important to Wraith than either of them to their Alliance. He gave a grim chuckle and drew a narrowed glance from Bonewhite.

In explanation, he said, _~It amuses me our fortunes rest on the life and goodwill of humans.~_

Bonewhite snorted, then stopped, assessing the path before them. _~Stupidity is an underrated quality and not often looked for in our followers.~_ The glance he exchanged with Guide was sly. _~It often masquerades as loyalty.~_

_~I consider myself fortunate then, Hive Master.~_

Bonewhite bared teeth in appreciation, moving on past a sudden knot of corridors into one that swept left. Like the flanks of a beast covered in flies, the lie of the floor altered once more and he stumbled, grunting with the effort to both stay on his feet and manage the extra weight he carried... dragged. Another reason to hope the boy saw fit to move as one more unconscious person, slight as Jennifer Keller was, would tip the balance, literally. Right now, he did not know how much further he could go? A trickle of blood, damp, sticky, only confirmed an uneasy opinion when it coursed past the waistband of his pants.

_~No assistance is at hand?~_ he asked, despite the evidence of echoing halls and stark surroundings. Shadows chased each other, casting them in gloom while the ship shuddered her death throes.

Bonewhite swung a look at him, concern flickering over his austere features, then resolution. _~ None, Commander.~_ Guide felt the decision made, but could do nothing to prevent it. A gleam of metal showed briefly, the movement swift and accurate as he drew his dagger across Obsidian's throat, grating on bone when he sliced through to her spine. Life departed on a gurgle, blood spewing thick as oil and spattered them both in gore. Dropping the corpse, the Hive Master stepped over it to lend his support to Guide's burden. _~We will make better time.~_

Acid fizzed in Guide's guts. Yes, a justified action, even a sensible action, but how could he condone it. Whatever information lay in her head, gone, reduced to nothing more than carrion. It lay now only in the man they hauled. If they could not piece together anything useful from him then Guide was at a loss how they could battle this new enemy. He had no doubt there were others just as tenacious and more than willing to take up the challenge where this had finished. Always there was some faction that wanted the spoils for themselves and that he could not have. They needed the Lanteans, and he needed to present evidence to them. Without them and Earth's reluctant backing, they lost already. Lastlight left a powerful legacy, one they would do well to eradicate.

Various truths exposed themselves as his mind whirled in contemplation of increasingly difficult scenarios, the many different futures and possibilities arising from a few acts. Power changed hands so quickly. Any path chosen he must control and it filled his mouth with bile, the palm of his feeding hand slippy with enzyme, when he thought they might lose. How to ensure only the best outcome? He was old. Too old perhaps? Change in the council's structure began already. He saw his obsolescence clear as thunder strike, a new Consort in his place. Rightly so, yes, but not now. So much at stake. So much. Too many others played this particular game. The notion stuck in his craw and repeated with particular violence. He could not shut down the violent imagery. 

_~That was not well done,~_ he hissed, eventually able to trust himself to mention what just happened.

_~We have no need of her.~_

_~What if there are others like her - ~_

_~Then he will provide the answers, will he not?~_

_~If he knows them.~_ The Hive Master did not respond, but the tone of his mind indicated little regret for the action, which made Guide wonder if he was aware of something more? _~Why?~_ he asked, censure running deep in his voice.

But the only answer he received was silence and they moved through the darkness, locked in disagreement. 

~xxXXxx~

Carrying a dead weight did not appear high on his list of favourite things when on a hive surrounded by trigger happy enemies. Even if that weight was the Fair One and she was not so much dead as unconscious. Slung over his shoulder, her head bumped against his back with every stride. One arm swung loose, smacking against the hull with a dull thud, when he turned down the home straight. He winced. She gave a moan, which filled him with thankful relief as there had been a horrible moment when he thought she might not make it. And then he would have to face Bonewhite... or Alabaster. Guide... 

The cleverman cringed from the thought. Any of those three would cheerfully divest him of his skin and nail it to the nose of the hive as a warning to all others who might be so utterly stupid as to fail in an appointed task – particularly one this important. Despite a few scary times when he mistrusted his place and reason for existence, Sprint did not doubt his preference for an intact and functioning hide. Another uncomfortable thought sauntered across his mind. The Lanteans. If he still managed to draw breath after Guide had dealt with him, Sprint's imagination provided all sorts of inventive techniques they would do to him if he found himself in their hands. 

Purpose propelled him down the corridors without a glance left or right, lending swiftness to his feet. Though the hive seemed to want to confound him on every level – new walls, and corridors sprang up behind, or to the fore... Coming to a junction, Sprint made a random selection and, as luck would have it, turned into a narrow annex that brought him to a working transport. He darted inside, off hand reaching for the controls, desperation making him fumble at first. _Calm cleverman... calm..._ Punching in the coordinates to the dart bay, he hissed when the console declined to react, so he shifted Jennifer so when he distributed his stance she stood propped against him. A soft puff of air punctuated by a groan disturbed the hair on his neck.

“Fair One,” Sprint muttered, attention still fixed mostly on the transport controls, “are you awake?” A small movement of her head gave Sprint hope. “I need you to stand? Can you do that?” He bent close as possible, managed to catch the husky note of _“...try...”_ when she breathed it in his ear. 

Good enough. Looking down, Jennifer's eyes flickered open, pain written clear, and prompted by sudden fondness he rested his forehead against hers. Her hand lifted and rested on his cheek, a curious little half smile on her lips.

“Friends...?” Covering her fingers, Sprint nodded. He did not trust himself to speak and swallowed, throat thick with some nameless nonsense he wished he did not feel. “It's okay,” she said, and he coughed out a tiny laugh.

“Can you stand?” A mute shake of her head. “Too soon?”

“In... a minute.” She heaved in a deep breath and rested against him, shaking a little and with his help managed to transfer her weight so it was supported by the back wall of the transport. “Damn arm... hurts.” Adjusting his grip, he moved from the rapidly developing bruise, but then she gave an impatient flick of her fingers. He continued to hold her forearms, worried she would fall. “Let's go... now.”

“If...”

“Now... cleverman.”

“Yes, my lady.” Sprint gave her a mocking little bow, drawing a wan smile that did not linger. 

He attacked the console again, determined to get it up and running. There. A short in one of the switches. Finding the small panel on its underside, he pressed and it flipped open. Numerous leads ran in a knotty tangle to several points in the machine, and he could not locate the one he needed at first. Sprint eased a couple loose, fluid leaking over his fingers as he fumbled in near dark to separate them and jury rig the panel. Sharp edges cut the tips of his fingers, complicating the surgery with more liquid. A few more twists were needed. One... there... This cable... where was the conduit? Yes. He gave a satisfied growl when green light flickered on the console, then became a steady glow. 

Hooking an arm round her waist, Sprint pulled her against him, and the Fair One slid her arm round his neck, shored up against him. “Now.”

Light flared, brilliant as it enveloped them, white, harsh, depositing them moments later, hopefully, close to the dart bay. A furtive glance into the corridor showed Sprint it was empty and he gathered Jennifer again and they stumbled along the listing floor together. This time he struck it lucky, as the way was clear and well-defined. Perhaps the hive placed all her resources into keeping an escape route for her crew? He could only be grateful the doors to the bay gaped open, the narrow bridge leading to the interior intact, all praise to the first mothers. Another tremor shook the hive, and he struggled to stay on his feet when he reeled against the wall, taking Jennifer's weight as she fell against him.

“Not... good,” she gasped, and clung to him like a feeding Iratus. Her fingers were white with effort. “One more... like that.”

Grunting, Sprint dragged them both upright, heading through the doors. A glance showed there were a few darts poised for take off but, more importantly, no enemy blades. Another complication he could do without right now.

“There.” He drew her attention to a siding where a craft sat, hidden in the shadow of an overhang and they started to edge towards it. As soon as they set foot on the narrow span, it shifted under them and they moved back. A piece of rubble detached and fell. They watched it in silence and clutched each other in relief. If they had taken the chance...

“No other... way?” she asked, her face turned up to examine the rest of the bay. 

“Only there,” he growled and jerked hi chin to another, higher, entrance. “We will not get there in time, Fair One.” More cracks crazed the bridge's surface as they watched and round them the infrastructure groaned with the ship's distress. Rapid examination of their surroundings showed him he had little choice in his next move. “Stay here,” he instructed. 

Jennifer grimaced. “Like I'm... going... anywhere.”

“I have a better chance -” he began, hoping to gain her understanding.

“I see... that,” she said, and settled on the floor with her legs drawn up under her. “Do... what you... gotta.”

He gave a curt nod and ran. Never had he lived up to his name so thoroughly as he charged across to the relative safety of the ledge. Behind him he heard the sounds of it begin to crumble, crashes from below as it bounced against obstructions, the thuds of more devastation following his flight. He flung himself the last few metres, summoning reserves of strength and scrabbled desperately to hang onto the edge of the ledge, hauling himself up, searching for grip with his toes so he could power his way to safety. 

The whine of another dart caught his attention as he rolled onto his back and, disbelieving, he watched as the craft twisted through a sudden cascade of falling material. The pilot was possessed, insane. It dodged a boulder that should have obliterated it, and looking across the expanse he saw Jennifer raise her hand to him, her shout silenced by the thunder of the craft. The culling beam struck and she was gone... 

“No.” On his feet now, Sprint began to race for the dart and then light surrounded him too.

~xxXXxx~

_~Their cause is lost, sister.~_

Waterlight's tones rang out across the bridge, and Alabaster's men stirred under it even while they worked to complete the outcome. Beneath their weariness, she sensed gladness, and something more. Pride. In their achievements, in who they were and how they had come from nothing to this glory. In their Commander and, tellingly, in her. She basked in their love and appreciation, awed by it, humbled, even. An emotion, she could hear Guide say, in that particularly sarcastic tone of his, that served them all well. Guide... A pang shot through her at the thought of her sire. Never more than now had she needed him so much, right at this point when his wisdom would be invaluable. Her fists tightened to balls and she pushed the unthinkable away. They had been lost to each other before. Never again.

Turning her gaze to the stricken hive, she gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. Already, remnants of the crew from the other hive begged to join them - men to swell her ranks, yes, but should she trust them? How easily they swore allegiance when they had fought so savagely against her and the Alliance. Too easily perhaps. So much at stake... 

_~Your thoughts are mine,~_ said Waterlight, and Alabaster met the frank look in the young queen's eyes, mutual understanding passing between them. Precisely what were they taking on, and whom? What taints did they bring, if any? _~We must remain vigilant.~_

_~Indeed.~_ Turning her attention to the static coming from the ship, a spike isolated itself from the rest, a pattern she recognised. Coded identification. _~Did you see that?~_ The question snapped across the bridge, pinned the young blade monitoring communications. 

_~Yes, my Queen.~_

_~What has happened?~_ Alabaster raised her eyes to the concerned face on the monitor. Bronze hovered behind Waterlight, ever close, fixed on the monitors, dragging Waterlight's attention to her own instruments. Her slim fingers made a rapid dance across the interface, and she glanced back up, brow ridges lifted in surprise. _~I see.~_

_~At least we know some will return,~_ she said, and allowed herself the brief respite afforded by relief. The question remained, who? 

Closing her eyes, she touched the minds under her care, coasting among their scattered thoughts, seeking to bring them back to a singular, cohesive, ribbon. Careful focus pulled them into better relief, there was Halt and Breeze, the delicate cascade that was Note, and others, all joining the symphony. There were noticeable gaps, not least those left by Bonewhite and Guide, and Sprint. Momentary grief stung but she swept it aside; she could not mourn just yet. Selfishly, her mind turned to Ember, and a stab of joy rushed in her that he remained safe in Atlantis. 

_~My Queen!~_ Careful excitement filled the voice of the young blade monitoring one of the stations and he stared at the listing hive, eyes rapt on the screen. _~There is something leaving the hive...~_

At first, Alabaster saw nothing. Moving closer to the small screen, she peered hard, searching the inky black and then she had it. It crawled... slow, jerky... a ship? A dart. A sliver of darkness against the velvet of space, a negative image caught on the retina. _~Who...~_

_~I do not know, for certain. It may be the commander but... ~_ he said, and caught her eye while he increased the visual range of the sensors. Yes, she agreed, it might be a fake identification code, but if she knew her father – and she did – then in spite of the odds being stacked against him, he would find a way to get back. _~They are running silent.~_

_~Sister, have you picked this up too?~_ Alabaster asked, and spared a rapid glance at Waterlight whose attention had moved elsewhere on her bridge.

_~We have it,~_ the young woman replied, finally, when the blade at her elbow nodded. She looked up, focussed on Alabaster across the parsecs. _~Could it be Guide?~_

Alabaster watched the way the craft moved, how it rolled out of the path of debris that flew from the hull of the stricken hive, spinning on its trajectory. _~It certainly looks like his flying,~_ she said, dry with anticipation as its antics took on a familiar aspect, and rolled again, dodging fiery bolts as the afflicted hive shuddered. _~Very like.~_

_~It has a highly erratic path, my lady.~_ The blade's long fingers danced across his console, focussing his instruments closely on the fleeting shade. _~What are your orders?~_

_~Can we get any closer to them?~_ Alabaster leaned over the young man, off hand resting against the terminal. 

_~Negative,~_ he responded, fixed on the shape as it hurtled towards them. _~ The enemy hive has reached a critical stage and we must retreat to a safe distance before it disintegrates.~_

Hissing, she drew away and stared at the large screen, hoping to catch sight of the dart as it manoeuvred. The youth was right; she could see that from the wild fluctuations scampering dementedly across his screen. They dare not move closer. Already they placed themselves in a precarious position. Her mind jumped back to the problem in hand. Return might have a chance.

_~Waterlight...?~_ Her voice rang out across the hive, tense.

_~Bronze,~_ the young queen barked out her favourite's name and the blade leapt to his task with alacrity. _~Plot trajectory...~_ She moved off screen, then reappeared a few moments later. _~Sister, this is a tricky manoeuvre and may not be successful.~_

_~It will,~_ Alabaster stated, firm in her belief that this time they would all survive. _~It must.~_

_~Move to retrieve position,~_ Waterlight commanded and the view changed as Return eased her bulk to the correct orientation, presenting her broad flank to the running dart, ponderous as she picked up speed to match the nimble craft, bay doors gaping wide as a wound. The pointed nose of the dart shifted direction infinitesimally, aiming for Return.

Alabaster whipped her head up, pinned the helmsman. _~Get ready to jump,~_ she snarled, _~as soon as they have them.~_

_~Yes, my queen.~_ He bent his head over the console, intent.

Breath caught in her throat, Alabaster reached out over the parsecs seeking the minds in the needle attempting to hurl itself into the welcoming body of Return. Every nerve, all the atoms of her body stretched in an attempt to perceive what lay within the fleeting dot, but it was beyond her and she could not say with certainty who they brought on board Return. It had to... must be Guide and the Fair One. 

Tension mounted. They could do nothing except wait. Observe. Time... slowed. Alabaster held her breath. Anticipation filled every moment. Hungry eyes followed the small craft's progress.

_~We have it.~_ Waterlight's voice echoed across the bridge.

_~Now,~_ Alabaster barked. _~Jump.~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many apologies for the length of time it has taken for me to get this written. Hopefully, this will provide some further interest.


	26. Chapter 26

Soon as the canopy opened Guide levered himself carefully from the cockpit and slid the rest of the way to the floor, back against the craft's side. Its rough flanks jolted every hurt, reminding him all too easily of the wound in his side. Bent double, he clasped his knees tight when pain launched a guerilla attack, fighting for breath. Long moments stretched as he wrestled with nerves firing on every cylinder while damp stickiness spread down his leg from the rip, which had opened again, left him gagging. Too much damage to control, too much internal damage... he refused it. Would. Not. Allow it. Pain receded, pushed back by indomitable will. Right now, feeding seemed out of reach. Unlikely.

Guide forced himself erect and rolled his shoulders to ease the kinks out of his spine, taking in the cavernous room and the restful hum of a hive not in the throes of death. It was a balm to his frazzled nerves, soothing, and he allowed himself to relax into it a little while he glanced round. A small cortège stood at the entrance, watching, and a familiar figure detached from them and came closer.

_~Commander.~_

Bonewhite's greeting was mild, but Guide could sense reserve and control exerted on certain negative emotions. Their relationship was being tested and that would continue until they had an opportunity to resolve it. Clutching at the wound, he hobbled forward, prepared to overlook the issue for now. _~The blade?~_

Bonewhite grunted acknowledgement. _~On his way to the holding cells.~_

Guide pinned his second with a stare. _~I want him transferred to a cruiser immediately.~_

Bonewhite angled his body in a slight bow. _~That may not be possible...~_

Irritated, Guide demanded, _~Why?~_

_~Waterlight has requested your presence, Commander,~_ Bonewhite said, _~ and our queen travels to Return as I speak.~_

_~You took little time to find that piece of intelligence.~_ Guide could not help the accusation in his tone, still furious with Bonewhite's actions. _~A pity you do not see fit to apply such measures in other circumstances.~_

Bonewhite's mouth thinned, emotion clouding his mental signature. Regret, anger, frustration. _~I did only what was necessary.~_

_~I see.~_ He digested the comment, and coasted the surface of the hard mind in front of him but found it open and frank, then asked, _~Is there news of the Fair One?~_ A far too long pause followed the question and Guide snarled. _~We must locate her.~_

_~We do not know if she lives -~_

_~Then we must find out, Hive Master. It is imperative.~_ Guide closed his eyes. Was this it? Did everything he hoped for, dreamed for, end at this point? Suffocating despair threatened to overwhelm him for a moment but he rallied against its call. He could not believe it – and would not – until he had irrefutable proof. _~And if I cannot, then it falls to you.~_

_~Search teams have been dispatched to the planet in case of survivors.~_

_~I will join them.~_

_~My Lord,~_ Bonewhite said, and held up his off hand to forestall him, _~they are most unequivocal in their direction and will not accept your non-attendance.~_

Guide picked at his tattered clothes, drawing the Hive Master's attention to them. _~If they are insistent then they will also allow me time to prepare. I am not fit for an audience with one queen, let alone two.~_

_~Neither of us are, but it is my impression they do not care on this occasion.~_ When a harried looking cleverman appeared at the entrance, Bonewhite added, _~Our escort has arrived, it would seem.~_

Resigned, Guide swallowed his pride. _~Then we should go.~_

As they drew up alongside the younger man, he set off again with a curt _~Follow me.~_

Guide gritted his teeth and ignored seepage that dripped steadily down his leg. They did not set off for the queen's chambers as he expected and he glowered, exchanging a glance with Bonewhite who shrugged. The cleverman slowed his brisk pace when they approached the transporter, and paused as they moved into its open space.

_~Your escort will take you to your destination,~_ he said, setting the controls and bowed again, leaving in the direction they had come.

There was no time to question this development as lights spun round them and they materialised at the juncture of another terminal.

Waiting for them when they arrived was Bronze, who inclined his head in greeting. _~Welcome,~_ he said, and turned on his heel without further ado.

Guide fell into step just at his rear, chafing at the delay, Bonewhite beside him. They stopped before a set of doors, which opened when the young blade approached them, gaping wide for him to see into the room beyond. Bonewhite radiated cautious acceptance, but his brow had furrowed. Still, Guide sensed no threat so he moved past the blade and Hive Master. Spying a chair, he sank into it gratefully.

_~Your wound will be tended to,~_ Bronze said and a flicker of concern passed over his face, hidden quickly. _~Worshippers are on their way.~_

_~Have they received the vaccine?~_ Bonewhite asked. He had moved into the room, scanning all corners with the same nonchalance he used in every encounter.

A grim smile ticked a corner of Guide's mouth up. He could rely on the Hive Master to remain vigilant – even among allies. An involuntary hiss escaped him when he leaned forward and air bubbled in the wound. _~I hope they have,~_ he rasped, _~for their sake if not for my own.~_

_~They have,~_ Bronze said, and crossed to a table set against the wall. A tall carafe sat on its surface, filled with a clear liquid Guide guessed was water, alongside several stemmed glasses. He poured some into a goblet and took it to Guide, who nodded his thanks. _~My personal servant joins them. He will be honoured to be of service to you, Lord.~_ Facing Bonewhite, he asked, _~Are you in need also?~_

_~I fed well enough,~_ Bonewhite said, and his yellow gaze measured the youth then passed over Guide. _~It is not I that need respite.~_

_~And I grow tired of waiting,~_ Guide growled. He shifted his weight; hoped it would ease the slow trickle leading to his death if he did not feed before long. _~When is my daughter expected?~_

_~Her arrival is imminent.~_

_~Are we to expect other company?~_ Bonewhite asked, ahead of Guide, who noted the number of chairs exceeded those present.

Before Bronze could answer, the doors peeled apart and four humans entered. They bore trays, each of which had glasses and wine and they made their way over to the table, setting them down with a clunk. They shifted to the rear to stand in the shadows, glints reflecting from the planes of face and naked arms.

Cocking his head, Bronze said, _~She comes.~_

Guide nodded and shut his eyes, unspeakably weary, catching the distinct feel of Waterlight as she came closer. He brooded in the silence, and idly scanned the mindscapes of human and Wraith, noting flickers of emotion, suppressed to quiescent sparks that rolled around each other, flares of quiet brilliance and colour, impressions. The wait seemed interminable and all he could think of was the possibility Jennifer had died. He debated each and every method of how he could deliver this news to Atlantis and not one sounded like anything more than an excuse. As he had pointed out, her volunteering would not make a scrap of difference to the conclusion Sheppard and Woolsey would reach and on this occasion even he could find no reason to fault them.

He clenched his hands and leaned forward. _~I repeat - we waste time.~_

The door cracked open again and Waterlight strode in as the words echoed., a slim figure in white, her mother's jewels twinkling on her hands. She swung to face him, long plait falling over her shoulder. _~Commander,~_ she said, and Guide hauled himself to his feet, holding onto the chair arm but managed a respectable bow. _~You do not need to kneel,~_ she added, and Guide snorted.

Tilting her head, she appraised him with cool yellow eyes and swept past, snapping her fingers. The servants leapt into motion as Bronze offered his arm and she took the seat the Worshippers carried, settling into it with a flourish when they set it down in front of them; another sat beside her. As yet empty.

_~My lady,~_ Bonewhite murmured and dropped into a low bow. His hair fell like a curtain, slithering across leather. _~We thank you for your timely deliverance.~_

_~Indeed,~_ Guide echoed, gaze fixed on the young woman as she arranged her skirts, folding the soft material in her fingers.

_~My sister's Hive Master and Commander are welcome,~_ she said, rod straight in the chair, but Guide saw past her bravado. Still young for all that the war forced her to adulthood and responsibility too soon. _~Your mistress will be here shortly.~_

_~Not soon enough,~_ Guide growled and earned a scowl from Bronze. Peeved, he stifled the urge to snap. This was not his ship and he was not its master, even if he was Commander of the Alliance. Here at least he had to abide by the old rules of the inner council. Reigning in his temper, he gave a gruff apology. _~Forgive me, lady, but time presses on us. We must locate the Fair One.~_

Graciously, Waterlight inclined her head in agreement, but her rigid appearance gave her away. The young queen was anxious and in that moment Guide could not help but contrast his daughter and this young woman. Despite that, her nervousness remained well hidden when she answered. _~Your desire to find her is laudable, Commander, but we must remain cautious. We do not know yet whether there were allies, and if there were where they are.~_

A very good point, Guide admitted, but still... _~Never-the-less, madam,_ our _allies - ~_ and he stressed the word with careful emphasis, limping forward to angle over her - _~will expect retribution should anything happen to her.~_ Into the silence that followed he waved a hand towards Bonewhite. _~My Hive Master will go if I cannot.~_

Waterlight and Bronze glanced at each other. The young queen inclined her head in acceptance. _~A search team has been dispatched, Commander.~_

_~We must return to orbit.~_ Guide pressed the point, determined. _~The answers to your questions may be found in certain data crystals. Intel gathered by Sprint, the cleverman assigned to her. I have every confidence that if he lives then so will she.~_ He pulled himself upright, fighting against blackness that began to creep over his vision, but stumbled to one knee. A strong young hand gripped his upper arm. Proud, he waved Bronze off. _~Forgive me, lady, I am tired.~_

Kindly, she said, _~Sit, Guide. Your wounds must be tended to.~_

A chair miraculously appeared at his side and, grateful for the reprieve, he eased into it. After taking a moment, he leaned towards her in appeal. _~In that case, it is imperative I oversee the interrogation of our prisoner -~_

She held up her hand, waving him to silence. _~That is a job for queens, my lord. Alabaster and I will interview him.~_

_~Here?~_

Startled by his boldness, she visibly gathered herself, quashing the lash of annoyance sent in his direction and bared teeth at him. _~I am no child to be ordered on my own hive and you are not my sire, Guide. You would do well to recall who it was that killed Death.~_

Guide turned a small laugh into a cough and flinched when it twanged the wound. _~Oh, my lady, I do.~_ And if Teyla Emmagan was here, he had no doubt she could wrest whatever information they needed with ease. Such a pity Steelflower had served her purpose long since. He tempered his response. _~ You must understand, it is only that I am concerned for the welfare of our Alliance. My Hive Master's presence will ensure any information is acted upon quickly and with utmost discretion.~_

She studied him with narrowed eyes. _~Let us hope whatever we recover will show this was not a major threat.~_

All attention shifted when the doors slid open again, a cleverman entering the room. He strode over to Waterlight and bowed low to her. _~My queen.~_

_~Yes?~_

_~We have retrieved a signal from the planet.~_

_~A transponder?~_ Guide snapped, his interest utterly focused and repressed, again, the need to be gone, to be elsewhere. _~One of ours?~_

_~Patience, Guide,~_ Waterlight warned, and extended her hand for the tablet the blade carried under his arm. Her perusal seemed to take valuable hours and Guide chafed. Eventually, she nodded and handed it back, who then offered it to him. _~It seems promising.~_

Greedy for the information, Guide snatched it from the man's hand, and studied it minutely. Satisfied, he allowed a small smile to curve his mouth. _~Yes.~_ Pinning the Hive Master, he said, _~Go. Now.~_

~xxXXxx~

 

Odd sounds and cold woke Sprint. A mouthful of grit scraped across his tongue and he spat it out, the crunch of dirt against his teeth. Coughing, he floundered onto his back and dragged his forearm over his mouth, then cracked open his eyes. Night. All around he could hear the whisper of the wind as it blew flurries of stinging granules against any patch of bared skin. He stared at the sky, hoping to distinguish something from the configuration of stars, but the chips of ice above did not scan – not one contrasted with any of the maps he held in his head. His breath puffed in front of him, white smoke.

Where was he?

Under his back sand shifted and he realised he lay on a bank. A dune more accurately. It glittered around and above him, minuscule points of light that died as quickly as they appeared, blue and purple, shades of pink. Not a thing stirred and it grabbed at him, stretching senses and feelings to gossamer so he could only snatch at a whisper, a breath... Emptiness. So empty.

Lost, Sprint grabbed at his scrambled wits. Think, cleverman, think. Memories started to crowd back, wisps and hints, scent and colour, but they skipped out of reach when he placed a claw tip on them. Concentrate. Let it come. Be gentle. One reared into full view. The culling beam. And then... Reintegration. _Yes._ A sudden drop into empty air that sent him tumbling to oblivion. A pale visage swam into view. _Jennifer...?_ Sprint made a heroic effort to get to his feet and fell back into oceanic sand that parted like water when he tried.

A vibrating, deep hum resonated in marrow and cells, every tissue humming with intense urgency, growing in energy and Sprint half crawled, half swam, his way out, but was bowled over and sent crashing off his feet. Discordant notes grew louder when grains of silicone slid against each other, morphing to a liquid wave that sent him tumbling the rest of the way to the bottom of the long slope.

Smacking to a halt against a boulder, he grunted with pain and rolled onto his stomach before rising to all fours. One breath. Two. He staggered a little as he came upright, disorientated and a little dizzy. Tilting his head, Sprint eyed the incline he had come down; it reared over him, the slide of sand trickling to a halt, echoing tones dying away. Rocky ground showed where the wind pushed the desert in swathes and waves, aglitter in the starlight, crested with the barest hint of frost in the frigid desert night. Turning slowly, the cleverman examined his surroundings, noting the undulating ridges and the occasional outcrop of rock. As his eyes adjusted, Sprint spotted a gleam that could not be natural rising over the surface of a stand of rocks and sand, so he lumbered towards it.

He pushed past gnarled and spiky bushes that rustled thorns in slow vegetative threat and edged through a break in weather-beaten stone. An arch lay beyond it, carved by wind over millions of years, pitted as though it had been chewed by ferocious creatures with crushing jaws and teeth. Stunted vegetation sprawled over the surface, clinging to the soft rock with the tenacity of molluscs. Underfoot, the ground remained solid, what little sand there was whisking up into his boots and creeping down to his toes, grating against claws and skin and rubbing them raw. Ignoring his discomfort, Sprint picked up his pace and climbed the bank of another dune, half sliding down its opposite face and set off the hum of the desert's song again.

Getting through the sand was a struggle and he panted from the exertion; it sucked at him, threatened to pull him down into its depths, but he fought with every step, determined to get to the light he knew had to mean someone was there. As he drew closer, the glimmer resolved to a fire with two dark shapes beside it. One of them tended to the flame with bits and pieces of what he could only suppose was dried wood while the other crouched in a ball, small hands extended towards the dancing flames. A glint of light fell on hair, illuminating its colour and he strode forward with more determination. The smell of meat cooking, along with the sound of grease spitting when it dripped onto the fire, drifted to him, carried on a gust of wind.

As he entered the ring of shadow that marked the edge of brightness surrounding them, he knew without a doubt who their rescuer was. What he did not understand was why he still used oxygen? Why both of them were alive, for that matter?

“You found us, then, cleverman?" Firelight skittered along the skin and bone structure of one Sprint knew all too well. Bluewater. The blade distributed further twigs on the fire and it responded with greedy enthusiasm while he tended a thin bladed dagger improvised to a makeshift skewer. “It is a pity I did not end you when I had the chance.” A rough chuckle filled the night. “But then it is pity that stayed my hand.”

“Sprint?” A note of hope sang in his name, and the smaller figure turned towards him.

“Yes,” he acknowledged, the nerves of his hide prickling with anticipation, but choked back a snort of derision before addressing the other's comment. “It is as well you did not.” Sprint relaxed his hands from fists, then glanced towards the Fair One, scrutinising with careful deliberation what he could see of her. “It would have served no purpose and we might not have reached this place in our proceedings.” He stepped closer into the circle of light, still wary; Bluewater might have spared his life and, even more surprisingly, Jennifer's, but what had bought about this unexpected change of heart? Or had he misread the blade all along? “Are you well?”

Wan features greeted him, but there was warmth and gratitude in her eyes. “Well is... relative,” she said, but gave a stiff nod when he started towards her. “Don't fuss.”

Itching to debate the meaning of 'fuss', Sprint was all too conscious of the blade's feral gaze, shifting from one to the other with a speculative gleam in the depths of his green eyes, so satisfied himself with covert scrutiny. True, she did not look well, but other than exhaustion, a state painted over her before their – he hesitated, doubtful if he could really employ the word here – rescue, she seemed unharmed. He took stock of her again, but there were no extra bruises, no further signs of abuse.

“Tell me,” he asked, willing to place his life at risk with a challenge, satisfied Jennifer was safe enough, “why have you rescued us?”

Bluewater stirred the fire to greater heights and plucked the skewer out of the ground, handing it to Jennifer, who took it and sniffed at the small corpse it impaled; she nibbled, nose scrunched in distaste. Gruff, the blade asked, “Is it you only with loyalty for our queen, then, cleverman?”

The question took Sprint by surprise and he assessed the man in front of him. True, they held a great deal of rivalry, dislike even, between them, but at no time had Bluewater ever acted against the wishes of the Alliance or, more significantly, its Commander – and that was before Alabaster came back to them and during Steelflower's brief but glorious reign. The aberration of feeding on Jennifer could be simply that. A moments madness before he saw the worth in what Guide and Alabaster attempted.

“That would be an idiot's assumption.” He cocked his head and paced forward, drawing up close to the Fair One. “A better question is what are your intentions?”

The other man regarded at him for long moments, cold gaze sweeping him from head to foot. “Return to our hive.” Peridot eyes focussed out and past him. “If they do not come soon, I found somewhere to shelter.”

“Far?”

“Just beyond the bluff over -”

“Cleverman,” Jennifer interrupted, and he looked down at her. A hand rested lightly on his leg, the meat forgotten, juices dripping onto her clothes. “I think... you can trust.. him. I'm fine.”

“We will see,” he huffed, watching the blade, wanting to believe, at war with personal feelings and historical ill will. “But neither has he proven yet he means what he says.”

Bluewater bared his teeth and hissed. _~I owe you nothing, cleverman.~_ Then he waved his hand towards a deeper shadow. Sprint could make out the delineation of the dart that captured them; it lay some way off, smoking, one of its wings wrenched and tilted at an unlikely angle. _~You are lucky I managed to reintegrate you both and not kill us all.~_

The Fair One's face held a frown, head canted as she tried to follow Bluewater's words, and her fingers tightened on Sprint's leg. “Speak English,” she growled; dark eyes flashed irritation. “Don't... exclude me.”

Turning his attention back to the human woman, Bluewater considered her in silence. Emotion flickered over his face, rapid pulses that defied classification and Sprint could see he battled with the notion of her usefulness. Instead of a response, the blade picked up a handful of dry plant material and fed it slowly to the small camp fire, bringing the blaze higher and brighter. His silver hair gleamed golden, its silken fall hiding his face as he leaned forward. The crackle and snap of wood burning popped loudly in the silence when flame consumed the last dregs of moisture. He stirred white ashes with another piece of wood.

“It is difficult,” he said, eyes on his task, “to see you as equal.”

“I thought we'd been through this?” she said, and leaned on Sprint. “You know... what we're trying to achieve.”

“Yes,” he agreed, and regarded at her again. “Still, you are food -”

“Sentient food,” she cut in and there was defiance mixed with anger in her voice. “I get that... you see us like... cattle. I do. I get that some of us... are pets.” She stopped and placed her palm on the scar on her breast, Guide's feeding mark. “Some...” Jennifer paused, thoughts gathering like distant clouds in her psyche; Sprint could see them take shape. “Some of us... Wraith and human... we see more than that.” She tilted her chin, staring out into the purple night. “Friendship.”

“And are you and this cleverman friends, then?” He slanted his head, light dancing across his smooth skin, highlighting the sharp planes of his face as he stared at her.

“Without doubt,” Sprint said, and stared back at Bluewater.

“Your loyalty is commendable, cleverman, but I did not ask you.”

“Once -” Jennifer said, tightening her grip on his leg when he snarled - “Wraith terrified me. You are the... monsters... we've all been told about.” Catching her breath, she moved her hand from her breast and Sprint could hear the sincerity she placed in every word. “But I know... now I've seen... I've seen who you are... what you could be.”

“And what is that?”

“People,” she said, voice firm with conviction. “In a different skin, but in heart and all that... really counts... we are... the same.” She turned her face up to look at Sprint, and he caught his breath at such fierce affection in her eyes. “So yes... we're friends.”

“And in the future?” Bluewater looked skyward, and Sprint heard it too. Beyond the range of human hearing. A whine.

Jennifer shrugged, but then extended her hand to Bluewater. It hung there in the dancing shadows, pale and fragile, open. “More,” she said.

_~You contacted our hive?~_ Sprint asked, and brushed against the man's mind quickly and unobtrusively. He wanted to believe. _~Are you certain?~_

Bared teeth greeted his question and the blade turned his face skyward again. _~I did and I am.~_ A brief flash of amusement shone on his features. _~A transponder is a useful thing.~_

_~Let us hope the right people heard you,~_ Sprint grunted, unconvinced, and set his hand on Jennifer's shoulder. _~Until we know who has come, we should prepare against all eventualities.~_

Bluewater's expression hardened, but he got to his feet in one smooth move and pointed towards the bluff, its outline a jumble of conflicting shapes in the desert gloom. _~The shelter has small overhang with an opening that leads down to an underground stream.~_ He adjusted his weapons, and kicked sand over the fire, flames dying to a mere glow. _~We should not advertise ourselves too readily, either, eh, cleverman?~_

Nodding, Sprint glanced down at Jennifer and said, “We must move. There is a dart on its way but until we know who it is, we must get out of the way.” Taking her arm, he assisted her to her feet. “Come. The blade has located somewhere to hide.”

“Could it be... them?” she whispered, and Sprint could taste her fear.

“Perhaps,” Bluewater snapped, and took her other arm. His face drew close to hers when he added, “But I hope it will not as my transponder has a restricted frequency.”

Together, they half carried Jennifer, moving swiftly across the desert floor, skirting the deeper layers of sand until they reached the outcrop. A scan of the opening told Sprint all he needed to know and he hunkered to his knees to scrape away some of the sand blocking the entrance.

“Hurry,” he said to Jennifer, who gave him a miserable look, but complied without comment and sank to her hands and knees, stopping only to make a revolted gagging noise. “There's -”

“Nothing in there,” Bluewater declared, attention shifted elsewhere. “Do what you are supposed to, cleverman.”

Sprint glowered after the disappearing blade, but dropped to his belly and followed Jennifer's feet as they disappeared into darkness. The hole widened out considerably as he went, and he also understood why she had retched. Something had crawled in there to die, not too long ago, the odour still detectable even though stone kept the place chilled. Scuttling past the drying corpse, Sprint's eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light, and he spotted the Fair One just as she reached a shallow drop that took her out of sight. He went after her as fast as he could, reaching the point she had disappeared and found he had a little more head room. He went back to all fours but spilled into the darkness, landing in a heap on a broad, pebbly bank at the bottom of the shallow fall.

A warm hand pressed against his cheek and he brought his own up to grasp it. “You okay...?”

“It is you who are fussing now,” he growled, and eased onto his knees, disguising ruffled dignity.

“When will we know?” she whispered.

“Soon.” He could just make out her features. “Very soon”

They scuttled to the other side of the stream bubbling shallowly across a narrow channel, the bite of cold water making Jennifer gasp, and huddled against the slope of the wall. He would defend her to the death if needed.

~xxXXxx~

 

_~We believe we located the signal's start point,~_ the cleverman murmured, diffident as he stood at the Hive Master's side.

_~Verification,~_ Bonewhite snapped, and held out his hand for the tablet the man tucked under one arm. A few swift strokes brought the data he wanted onto the screen. _~I see.~_ Handing it back, he gave a nod to the officer. _~See what physical evidence you can find.~_

_~Lord.~_ The cleverman executed a smart bow, and left, kicking up dust as he went.

Eyes narrow against sand whipped into them, the Hive Master swept the scanner his hand, swinging it in a wide arc to cover as much of the landscape as possible. When they first arrived, the transponder signal had been clear but then it disappeared, which could be due to one of two reasons. Either it simply died from lack of power or someone switched it off. He favoured the second.

Against a lightening sky, the silhouette of a drone moved towards where the signal last resonated, and the Hive Master slipped the instrument back into his vest before following. Surely they could not be far from where it originated? Concern chafed at him. What if they miscalculated? What if this signal came not from one of their own as Guide had unhesitatingly declared, as if he was in a position to understand some greater realisation than the rest of them? It was, as usual, an arrogance of truly breathtaking magnitude. Not that his Lord and Commander would ever admit to such, he mused, dryly. Perhaps it was this denial of his that separated them – his impassive refusal to participate in what seemed, at times, unfeasible dreams and nonsense? The voice of reason in a Council full of men whose imagination over reached or lost sight of the mundane truth before them. Keep them on the right track, the one they must follow before those visions could come to fruition. Except, right now, he trod the path of one such vision and endeavoured to pull a miracle out of a hard-won victory. Complicit at last, he growled to himself, and bad tempered, annoyed he had been so infected, quickened his gait until he passed the drone, half sliding, half running the length of the dune's slope.

On the horizon, the sun rose a little further with every second they wasted, its rays feeble for now, barely warming the air, and he shivered in spite of himself. Barren by any standard, so why the Ancients saw fit to place a circle on this planet he could not fathom – from what he could tell it had little enough by way of mineral deposits so industrial reasons could hardly be the cause. But they had and so here he was.

And then there was Obsidian's death. Slipping between his fingers when he slaughtered her with no more compunction than he would feel for a human. The choice left him unbalanced, but he saw no other way. If they had taken her she would have been a danger to them. A constant source of annoyance for however long they chose to keep her alive. In that, she had been the greatest threat for their fledgling Alliance than anything else they had yet come across. And even if Guide did not see that, now, then he would. Eventually. Of that Bonewhite could not doubt. If he did not, then it brought into question the whole reason for their long association, and he chose not to dwell on the possibilities that might render available. Content to remain Hive Master, he did not have the same flair of other blades. Or, he gave thanks to the First Mothers, their imagination, which was as much a curse as a blessing. A voice for reason and balance needed strength and conviction to sway those who would upset every convention. Even if he could see that not every usual practice should remain unchallenged.

No. Questions and growth were good things. Excellent. Some needed to proceed at a more leisurely pace to allow for those even more conservative than himself to take a breath.

_~Hive Master.~_

Bonewhite's head snapped round at his title and locating the voice with a brief touch of his mind, he hurried past a bank of low dunes, to find the cleverman examining the chassis of a dart. The craft bore all the signs of weapons fire, gouges ripped into the fleshy parts of the machine, a wing askew and nearly sheered.

_~It is badly damaged.~_

_~Indeed.~_ Reaching into the cockpit he toggled the buffer's controls and surveyed the readout. How fortunate the data survived a rough and somewhat hasty landing, he reflected, jabbing at the onboard computer, which relinquished the information without any issue. Storage patterns flashed across the screen before it died. So. Whoever flew this had cargo...

Shifting his attention to the hovering cleverman, he asked, _~Indications of the pilot and his cargo's whereabouts?~_

_~We located the remains of a camp fire over there.~_ The cleverman pointed towards a heap set some way off and he caught the scent of burnt wood. _~I do not think they rested here long.~_

_~Long enough,~_ Bonewhite said and strode towards the dead embers. On reaching it, he hunkered down to one knee, and ran his fingers through the ash. Still warm. Buried in the depths were the remains of a small corpse, a rodent or lizard of some kind; he rolled it in his fingers. _~At least one human,~_ he remarked, and threw the charred flesh back. _~Any other signs?~_

_~Their tracks have been covered well, Lord.~_

Of course they had. He would have made certain to ensure they remained hidden from searchers until he could identify who came. Coming up from his crouch, the Hive Master's gaze moved over the dunes. Shadow ran in front of the sun, shortening as it moved across the sky, creating rifts and valleys, deep and dark. The dawn sped on apace and soon temperatures would exceed both Wraith and human norms.

_~Look harder,~_ he growled, and headed towards a bank of granite that looked promising. He would also have tried to find shelter – especially with a human in tow, unless said human was a snack.

Frustration gnawed at him. He wanted an end to this as fast as possible, and playing a game of hide and seek did not figure on his agenda as particularly useful. Ducking under the overhang, he barely had time to drop when a flash of light seared past his eyes, missing him by millimetres. That answered one question, at least. All he needed to do was find out who fired on him? A very quick scan, as he scrambled behind cover, showed him one of the drones already moved towards the direction the shot came from, pinpointed by its handler, no doubt.

_~And find whoever just shot at me,~_ he snapped, and backed up the order with a mind-stinging rebuke that sent the Handler scurrying to his charges. Brushing the sand from his coat, Bonewhite grunted with satisfaction at the speed the man obeyed.

~xxXXxx~

 

Sprint eased Jennifer's weight off where she leaned against him, and moved over the bank to the other side of the stream. Something was happening out there. He knew it.

“What is it...?”

His name hissed though the chilly air, and he turned back to look at her. Alarm rang though him, bell clear, and he hurried back, bending so he could place his mouth close to her ear. “There are others outside.” A brisk nod followed his words but she remained silent, still, eyes focused on the glimmer of light stealing into the cavern. “Wait here.”

Another nod.

Heaving up onto the ledge, he edged down the tunnel, grit biting into the palms of his hands as he moved forward. All he could hear was the sound of his own breath at first, but as he drew closer to the entrance other noises began to filter to him. Clamping down on his desire to test the flavour of the minds he detected beyond, he contented himself with making as little sound as possible. Soon enough he would know where they stood and whether Bluewater sold them cheaply. In spite of that one's assurances to the contrary, Sprint could not quite believe he dealt honestly. Too many years being a scapegoat, the cleverman observed, for confidence to establish even a tentative hold.

Straining to find out what went on, Sprint slithered into position as close to the opening as he dared without being seen and held his breath. A wisp, the merest hint, was all he needed to make certain who searched the desert, but they kept their broadcast muted. Reaching into the folds of his coat, he slid the crystals out of the way. If they fell back into the wrong hands then the whole sorry affair could restart, and his feeling was Guide and Alabaster would prefer they did not. He preferred they did not, if it came to it.

Light flashed across the cave, illuminating it in blue fire, sparking the mica embedded in the granite and a body fell heavily just out of sight. But that time he could not help but recognise the voice and the mental tones backing up orders. He eased down the tunnel to retrieve the Fair One and sent the briefest acknowledgement to Bonewhite. They would soon be home.


	27. Chapter 27

Amethyst fire created a chiaroscuro of shadows and Bonewhite dodged behind a rock, just in time to see it refract from quartz buried deep in its substance. This, he decided, grimly, was tiresome. A flicker caught his attention and he brushed against the Handler's mind with a brief impression from where he thought the shot came. That their aim also seemed poor, he chalked up to very good fortune. He gritted his teeth and pressed against the rock, sharp edges digging into him despite leather armour.

From behind its relative safety, he took the time to survey the area, senses extended to their fullest, in the hope more of that damnable luck would come his way. All he needed was to catch stray glimpses to pinpoint the location better, perhaps even locate their sniper and direct the Handler to the right position. A probe sent to Redstone's mind tangled in a net of flame, molten ore sparking, a friction that made his nerves throb. Bonewhite recoiled from the, thankfully, brief jolt while Redstone managed the brief mesh of thoughts with a mental quiver, receding to the multiple strands he held for each drone. The tang of iron and copper welled up through Bonewhite's nostrils, choking and thick; he shook his head to dispel the effect, but it lingered, filled his sinuses with unpleasant overtones. Teeth gritted, he fought back from its debilitating odour and sent up his own barriers... the sensation receded, and he drew a shuddering, grateful breath when it dispelled completely. 

Grabbing the strands back to order, he almost missed it. There. Thin as wire. Gossamer fine... a ghost flickering against his nerves, and he just about discerned the tentative, hesitant jab questing from another mind not far from where he huddled. It resolved to familiarity as he slid his senses along it and, delicately followed it to its source. Perhaps there really was something in luck, after all?

_~Hive Master?~_

Relief. Utter relief swamped Bonewhite, and then unwarranted anger stampeded after it as if it were the cleverman's fault the situation lurched out of hand. _~Tell me...~_ And he hesitated, a sudden cold rush of fear dampening his emotional surge, almost choking him when he tried to voice the idea. _~Does... is she...?~_

_~Here.~_

Here. The single word smoothed his ruffled temper, clipped it like the ragged edges of a mangled talon. For so many reasons he remained at odds with Guide about his choices - to ally with the Lanteans, stealing the retrovirus that first, calamitous, time - but this did not come even close to the top of the list. They needed her alive. And in good faith he could not fault the decision even if it carried more than a whiff of self-interest about it. Finding the Fair One alive gave him the impetus he needed, a desire to find and defeat this hidden enemy and, taking the chance, he raced across the stretch of open sand. He flung himself under cover again as a shot whistled past and considered. A live and vital Jennifer Keller was an asset, and allowed greater leverage. Unharmed...? Well, that could be too much to hope for. But it was a state that could be addressed once they got her back to the hive. He gave a mental shrug and slipped on ground gone suddenly liquid in a thrum of sound, sinking to his calves before he pulled free, clambering heavily towards the top of the dune, sand creeping into his boots. Frustrated by the way it sucked at him, he searched for the mental signature of the Handler.

_~Redstone...?~_

_~I have them, Commander,~_ that one responded, then went silent. 

From ahead, Bonewhite just about made out a faint stirring. Usually clumsy creatures with small regard for concealment, Redstone had trained the drones to such a level they slipped like whispers through the desert. Blue light illuminated the line of the ridge just above him, followed by the unmistakable whine of weapons fire and mental flashes of mindscapes gone dead, so he made as much haste as possible, fighting the resistance of the dune as it shifted. Coming over the top, Bonewhite could see neither cleverman nor drones - they seemed to have disappeared - and concerned, he hurried down the slope, feet burying themselves again, dragging in the sudden rush of sand as it hummed its song around him. How did the drones move so quietly when all it took for him to disturb the silica was a few rapid steps?

The sand moved again, suddenly, and he skidded, losing balance before he staggered to a halt on rock that lay beneath a thin, glittering, layer. _~Redstone...?~_

Silence. A void. He sent a cautious tendril, a mere filament that could touch and retreat before another knew of its touch. Caution made him extend his barriers and augment them to greater efficiency, aware he could also become hunted if not wary. Turning slowly, he looked for other, more physical, clues. A whiff of ozone carried on a sudden gust slipped into his sensory pits and he snorted to clear them. Other scents danced alongside, heat and burnt vegetation, the sharp edge of heated dirt. Where had the man gone? A plume of sand erupted and caught the corner of his eye and Bonewhite spun towards it, leaping past tufts of wiry plant.

Racing up the hillock, two drones lay prone on the ground, while the remaining creature fought hand-to-hand with a tall blade he did not recognise. Attention travelled to the besieged Handler desperately trying to hold his own against two men, and blaster pulled from its holster, Bonewhite sighted along the barrel, firing off a round at Redstone's opponents before he turned his attention to the remaining combatants. One. Two... the third shot missed. Growling, the Hive Master launched himself at the blade while Redstone concentrated on the cleverman... 

_~Commander...~_

Whatever the Handler was about to say disappeared in a barrage of fire that enveloped their enemies who crumpled to unconscious heaps at their feet. Surprise made Bonewhite whip round in a defensive crouch and throw himself to the ground in expectation, poised to return fire, except nothing happened. He scanned the ridges again, unwilling to relax; he had no idea what could happen. _What_ had happened? From beside him, a hand gripped his wrist and he glanced at Redstone who directed his attention to a figure appearing, spectral, out of shimmering heat reflected from light pink sands, nonchalant as it placed its blaster back in its holster. Head slanted, Bonewhite squinted, not certain he recognised the youth, but a rumble from Redstone alerted him. 

_~You know this boy?~_

_~Yes.~_ An impression of swagger, certainty and a clear pool of shallow water followed.

Coming onto his knees, Bonewhite dusted himself down before rising to his feet. _~Bluewater,~_ he acknowledged, lip curled.

_~Hive Master.~_

The young blade offered a faint bow – nothing too deferential the Hive Master noted. Impudent whelp. Still, he bore examination and Bonewhite swept into his mind without either hesitation or invitation, ripping through any shields he might have in place, but found nothing other than the usual ambition and conceit that so characterised an untested blade. Still... This... youth... had not proven himself yet, nor would until subjected to a... more... thorough examination. 

_~So,~_ pointedly, the Hive Master probed the young blade's thoughts again, scalpel sharp, which sent a flush across his cheeks from the sudden, painful, intrusion, _~you escaped with your life?~_

_~And rescued two others,~_ Bluewater responded, imagery clear and there for the taking. _~I cannot vouch for the human's health, but she is alive as is the cleverman.~_

_~That is as well for you,~_ Bonewhite stated and ran his eyes over the recumbent figures at their feet, considering their fate. _~We will take these men as prisoners.~_ To Redstone, he added, _~Dispose of our enemy's drones, they serve no purpose.~_

_~As you will it, Lord.~_

The cleverman went about the business with a singular attention to detail and ruthless efficiency.

_~Now, where is the Fair One?~_

_~Follow me.~_

They set off back to the stony outcrop Bonewhite noted on the scanner before, and he quirked a brow ridge. Hidden in plain sight. Entertained, he handed it to the boy; it took gall to place something so valuable right under the noses of hunters. Yes, they needed such an attitude in their crew and the more men like it they could call to their side, the better. They rounded the tall rocks, which revealed an overhang screened from immediate detection by a weird configuration in the rock that made it seem invisible. Ducking to all fours, Bluewater motioned to Bonewhite to follow, but he crouched to peer under the ledge, one hand resting on the sun-warmed granite.

_~Well?~_

_~Hive Master?~_ The welcome tones of Sprint's voice echoed faintly from the hollow.

_~Where is the Fair One, cleverman?~_ No need for preamble - all he wanted was to retrieve what they came for and the sooner the better. Getting off this particular rock held no small appeal. 

_~Behind me.~_

~Quickly then,~ Bonewhite growled, and reached with Bluewater to grab the filthy hand appearing from the entrance.

A quick heave pulled Sprint free in a cloud of dust that covered all of them in a fine layer silt. Blinking grit from his eyes, the Hive Master coughed and lay on his stomach, reaching down the warren with his free hand while the youth dealt with the cleverman. 

“Dr. Keller...”

“Bonewhite?”

“Yes.”

A thin arm poked its way out of the hole and Bonewhite grasped Jennifer's forearm firmly while she gripped him back. She slid the rest of the way into the desert when he gave a jerk, as covered in muck as her companion, hair stiff from sweat and grime. He noticed she did not release her grip and Bonewhite found himself reluctant to let her go too. Looking down at her wan features, the Hive Master gave an internal sigh and helped her to stand. There would never be a depth of feeling between them, but he could accept her importance and that he was grateful she had survived. 

“You can let me go,” she murmured, but Bonewhite bared his teeth at her.

“You will fall,” he observed, brisk and business-like, “and I would prefer you did not obtain more injury.”

“Yeah...” Jennifer coughed, wheezed and turned her face away as she spat out gobbets of dust-filled mucus. She heaved a breath. “Look after... your interests.”

“Always,” said Bonewhite. 

~xxXXxx~

_~You must admit,~_ Guide began, and paced the length of the room, followed by three sets of eyes, _~from what we have gleaned, their plans were hardly infallible.~_

_~Indeed they were not,~_ Alabaster agreed, and continued to watch him closely enough to make Guide wonder if his new coat had rips in it? On their return to Venture, he fed well, so it could only be his less observable … difficulties... that drew her interest so. _~Foolhardy, one might even say.~_

It came to him a few moments after that thought how agitated he must seem despite the tight rein he placed on his emotions. Just like her mother, she knew him too well. But then, how could he relax until he knew for certain how Jennifer fared? Alive... the word tormented him, a tight ache that crept into his throat and mind, a twisted joy he should not allow. He rebuked himself, swinging through both irritation and relief, that unsuccessful concentration would serve no one, least of all his own position.

_~It is as well,~_ she continued, and the tenor of her mind told him she was not fooled by his pretended composure, _~the groups comprising this enterprise seem... disjointed, which, fortunately, creates internal friction.~_

_~An internal friction that is mere opinion, daughter, for the moment, ~_ Guide grunted, wishing he had access to the crystals he knew Sprint carried. Essential information, he hoped, that could help them decide one way or another how to deal with the threat. _~However, it would be remiss of us not to take advantage of such an issue if it does, indeed, exist.~_

_~Integration is preferable -~_

_~No doubt.~_ Guide dismissed the notion, and ignored the flash of anger that flared at his interruption. _~Allow me to offer a supposition, daughter...~_ It was a mere nod to her, he knew, but she would swallow it because she counted on his wealth of experience. _~ If they do wish to add their strength to ours, of course that is preferable, but there is much uncertainty if only because they are Wraith, at their heart, and it is the nature of our kind to ever take the dominant path.~_

Sable grunted, his head still bowed in thought. _~ But, for how long could we rely on internecine conflict to hold them at bay?~_ He folded his arms and cut a glance at each of them in turn. _~Somehow we must ensure they remain at odds.~_

_~I do not think that viable.~_ Wintersong added his opinion at last. 

_~Beyond question,~_ Guide agreed. The silence thickened palpably.

_~Their agenda is not likely compatible with ours, Guide, as you pointed out~_ Alabaster said, drawing an unwelcome opinion. 

_~Nor can we destroy them all. Consider,~_ Guide said, and paced as his thoughts coalesced, ~if _Lastlight's agenda continued through his lieutenants – those others the Lanteans caused to become human and survived the destruction of their habitat – if even a handful took that message through the galaxy and continued in secret, the numbers could amount for too many to readily exterminate. Much as we might wish it.~_ Coming to a halt, he stood facing the doors, mind drifting back and forth over the current pressing problem and to Jennifer's impending return. He swung back to face Alabaster. _~Even with the assistance of Atlantis, I cannot see us routing this enemy. We must find a way to annex them to our Alliance, daughter, despite these issues – with something they desire.~_

_~They desire, father, as you have so ably pointed out~_ she remarked, stone dry, _~to rule without interference.~_

At that, Guide grinned and earned a scowl that reminded him of how very young she was still. _~As do we.~_

Alabaster sighed and propped her chin in her hand, eyeing him thoughtfully. _~What do you propose?~_

_~We must prepare alternatives.~_ Alabaster snorted, shaking her head with sudden understanding, and Guide lifted a brow ridge. _~As always.~_

Wintersong rocked on his feet, yellow eyes full of doubt. _~There are none I can see, Commander.~_

Sable growled agreement, and Guide wished Bonewhite where there, or Ember. They would grasp the point without the need for lengthy explanation – or, rather, he amended, they would give a protracted argument that would take place somewhere less public once the rest of the council agreed to whatever plans he made. Tiresome, but it often resulted in amendments for the good of all and he valued their input because they were unafraid to challenge him. Since Alabaster's return, however, they deferred less and less...

_~The reality of such need not be a consideration,~_ he explained, patient in spite of himself. _~After all, we need not be too forthright about all our plans or hopes for the future and I very much doubt this faction will believe anything we tell them, anyway.~_

_~Feed them misinformation,~_ Alabaster mused, her eyes narrow, her mindscape appreciative and entertained. _~Destroy them from the inside?~_

Guide shrugged. As if there were another way? _~But of course.~_

_~How is it you propose to do this?~_

_~We must first recognise them,~_ Guide said, eyes lighting on each of them in turn. _~We do, after all, have something they -~_

A slick rasp from the doors as they parted announced the arrival of someone new, a cleverman Guide did not recognise. One of Bonewhite's recruits in all probability. 

Bowing to Alabaster, the youth offered her a tablet then declared, _~The Hive Master is returned, my Queen.~_

Guide snapped to instant attention. _~Where?~_

At the barked command the boy flushed, and stammered a response. _~Dart bay...~_

Guide did not hesitate, even when an imperative and furious _'father'_ sounded after him. Only after he got halfway down the corridor and turned towards the transporter did he realise Alabaster followed, radiating fury and resignation in equal measure. 

As soon as she got close enough, she grabbed his forearm and leaned towards him. _~I will accompany you.~_

_~No need.~_ He sounded clipped, even to himself, even as he punched in the code to take him there.

_~She is friend to me, too,~_ Alabaster snarled, and Guide caught the expression in her eyes, a hard gleam he could hardly ignore. _~Remember that, Commander.~_

Chastened, Guide bowed. _~Forgive me, my Queen, I forget myself.~_

_~Do not do so again.~_

Guide shut his mouth and kept his thoughts wrapped up tight as a knot. Reprimands from his own child, or from a chit like Waterlight, for that matter, chafed at him, reminded him of his eroding power base again. As they exited the booth, Alabaster's fingers wrapped round his wrist, her emotions clear in the contact. Concern sat high, annoyance not far behind, and a curious sentiment Guide could not quite place – sorrow, perhaps? 

Then she pulled at him so he faced her. _~Even though I value your counsel, you now answer to me, Commander, and will not leave my presence unless I have dismissed you. It is no longer appropriate for you to behave as though you are queenless.~_

So it had come, then. Expected but definitely unwelcome. And if the Alliance was to have coherence, then his choice was plain. Compliance. _~As you will it, my lady.~_

_~Despite all indications, Guide, I understand,~_ she murmured, as they began to walk towards the dart bay again, _~ and you will always be necessary.~_

Which was about as much affirmation as he would ever get, he acknowledged. Aloud, he said, _~You do me honour, my Queen.~_

_~Your counsel is wise, father, despite other... less... welcome tendencies.~_

Unable to stop himself, Guide choked on a burst of laughter, appreciating the point. _~Daughter, you wound me.~_

In answer, Alabaster pursed her lips. _~Come,~_ she said, brisk and professional now the uneasiness between them dispersed, _~let us see how the Fair One has managed through her trials and if she has reconsidered her stance.~_

_~Perhaps,~_ Guide said, in an aside only they could hear, as they passed a group of bowing clevermen, _~that is a consideration we should leave until she is sufficiently recovered.~_

Alabaster gave a grave nod of assent, but she seemed unconvinced by the rationale. _~Perhaps it is.~_

The entrance to the bay gaped open at their approach, figures they recognised moving towards them. Leaning against Sprint, the Fair One looked fractured, but determined, her mouth set in a line. She managed to shake hair out of her eyes and give them a wan smile, pushing the cleverman away so she stood on her own two feet. The Hive Master stood to the rear, off hand at her back, as if afraid she would fall and she wobbled a little to prove his caution correct.

“Lady,” she said and acknowledged Guide with a faint nod. “Commander.”

“You are weary,” he said and stepped forward, uncaring of the audience. “Allow me to escort you to your quarters.”

“Not at this moment,” Alabaster said, and cut a hard stare at Guide who ignored it, off hand already at Jennifer's elbow. “I apologise but in this instance I need you to address the data we've retrieved from the enemy.” 

“I believe -” Guide said, careful to phrase his words properly - “Dr. Keller has not yet recovered from being fed on, my lady.” He made no effort to remove his hand and began to propel Jennifer towards the exit.

The Fair One surprised them both when she shook her head, the motion emphatic. “Please... no. Forgive me, but Sprint... will take me.” Alabaster studied the woman, but Jennifer met her gaze with chin high. “I need some alone time.”

“Impossible,” Alabaster responded and drew an interested stare from the Hive Master. The Fair One drooped in disappointment. “Time is at a premium.” 

Recovering from the blunt denial, Jennifer pulled herself upright again, taking a step away from Guide. “I won't be at my... best, so -”

“Doctor,” Bonewhite said, leaning over her, “in this instance your wishes -”

She turned on him, eyes shining with exhaustion. “Do I look like I _care_ what's... politic?” The flare subsided to a flicker after her explosion and she rubbed her hand across her brow. “Just need to... get myself... together.” Beside her, Sprint's mental signature damped down, clearly disturbed, his concern radiating through the room. Guide felt his turmoil as he made an abortive effort to reason with her, which served to fan her sense of impotence and, in turn, the spark of anger at its centre. She waved him off, too far gone to listen objectively and spat out the next sentence. “I get it... I do...You want me to go through new data... yeah... OK... but... please... not yet.” For the first time she looked over at Guide, appeal written all over her. “I can't think straight...”

Sprint spoke up then, swallowing apprehension and Guide growled, pleased the boy had backbone enough to challenge when he saw fit. “It is possible the experiment design may have flaws, my queen, if the Fair One cannot rest as -”

“Already we have delayed too much,” said Alabaster, her stance flinty, emotion locked behind a wall of steel. “Your disinclination is comprehendable, Dr. Keller, but at this juncture I insist we bring all possible haste to bear on the difficulties presenting to us.” She surveyed the woman again and softened a little. “You will be able to repose as needed at the laboratory; I will ensure your needs are met.” 

“Guide...?” The Fair One entreated again, ignoring the way Alabaster stiffened after the extension of a solution. She then swayed alarmingly before their eyes and Bonewhite's hands moved to rest on her shoulders before she fell. Dark eyes swept over him, but he remained expressionless. “Right.” 

Interference was out of the question. This was no longer his place and he could not openly defy a queen's request. Never had his position been so clearly outlined, but he also hoped she heard the proviso he placed in the demand. _Forgive me, little one._ “Respite will be available as soon as the essential work is complete.” The light in her dimmed further, though, and Guide raged at thousands of years of conditioning and the needs of the Alliance. “Sprint, escort the Fair One to her laboratory. I will attend shortly.”

A sense of hopelessness washed over him. Jennifer's. “Then get... a stimulant. You... better find something... or I'll be worse than useless.” The gaze she slid over them was full of simmering reproach and despair. A hint of defiance followed. “And food. Can you... manage that?”

“Meroc will attend to your needs.” Jennifer's gaze fixed on him and Guide controlled the impulse to sweep her off her feet and carry her to her rooms. Instead he addressed Sprint again. “The crystals?”

“Safe,” the cleverman replied, and took them from his vest pocket. They rested on his palm, bright with promise. Everyone stared, including Jennifer, a hungry curiosity in her expression where there had been only weariness.

Attention on Alabaster, Guide tilted his head and broke the unnatural quiet. “Is there anything in particular you require, my queen.”

“Answers.” Her face had a pinched look, one he recognised as Snow's, one she had often worn whenever difficult decisions were required. “Stay a moment, Commander.”

“As you wish,” Guide said, and swept a glance over her before standing to one side to allow Jennifer and the cleverman through. The tang of misery left with her as they passed through the door, and he braced himself for what would come, both now and future events.

Bonewhite's gaze flicked from one of them to the other, and just to his rear the slim figure of Bluewater stood to attention, nerves stretched as if to snap. Guide spared a moment of pity for the boy, mildly surprised to see him there, while he waited for Alabaster to make a decision.

_~Hive Master,~_ she said, and glided to Bonewhite with her hands extended, _~I am pleased to see you whole and back with us. Your presence has been missed.~_ A sentiment Guide agreed with heartily. 

Taking the proffered hands, Bonewhite bowed over them, and kissed her fingers. _~My Queen.~_

He stayed low over them for longer than necessary and Guide raised a brow. So that is how it was? As he released them, Alabaster moved to the young blade, off hand extended so she could brush his cheek.

_~You have our thanks, my blade,~_ she said and smiled on him. _~The restoration of the Fair One to our Hive is no small thing.~_

_~My Queen,~_ Bluewater breathed, handsome features brimming with adoration. _~I could do no less.~_ He sank into a low, low bow, rivalling the Hive Master's for elegance, and stayed that way until she brought him upright with a gentle touch on the shoulder. _~It is an honour to serve.~_

_~Leave us and take your rest_ ,~ she said, dismissing him as easily as she raised him up, and he left with his shoulders back, proud. 

Oh, how easily she won the hearts of her men. A few words, the brush of her mind against theirs, and she owned them body and soul. But the boy was no more than all his limited experience could allow, after all. A blade. A warrior, not a scientist. But then, Guide allowed, he had been young once and just as desperate to serve. No matter. Things moved on and he had no choice but to contend with now, no matter how unpalatable. The cynic in him allowed his lips to curl, but he hid it when Alabaster examined him.

_~So.~_

Guide affected a bow. _~Lady?~_

_~How soon will you finish the retrovirus' adjustments?~_

Surprised by the turn the question took, Guide cocked his head. _~I will need to assess the latest results. However - ~_ he 'hmmed' in thought and ran through what he recalled - _~ if all those we received before our capture are as promising as the last batch, then I believe it will not be long before we can offer this to all humans annexed to our Alliance.~_

_~Good.~_ An uncomfortable silence reigned, one he was in no hurry to fill. Eventually, she added, _~Do you believe there are aspects of our current enemy's research we could incorporate?~_

_~Without in depth analysis, I cannot answer, ~_ Guide said, suddenly wary. He had no illusions they would use whatever they gleaned if it proved useful, but it might, even for him, be one foot too many in the wrong direction. _~Lightbreak yielded some data of use, not least how much human DNA was included in Obsidian's genesis.~_

_~That,~_ Bonewhite murmured, _~is disturbing.~_

_~It is, indeed,~_ he agreed, realising as he spoke Bonewhite had known none of that. _~Plus the genetic material has been much altered to allow Iratus coding incorporate that much more fully.~_

_~More human...~_ mused Alabaster.

_~Somewhat,~_ said Guide. _~With the abilities of a full queen, and more.~_

_~Her genome presented as Wraith,~_ Bonewhite pointed out. 

_~Yes.~_ Guide considered the factor. _~ Iratus DNA's tendency to dominance, perhaps, caused her Wraith-like appearance. Without further information, however, that is mere conjecture.~_

_~Then you must continue you work with the Fair One, Commander, to establish whether such combinations are useful and persuade her that her continued presence is essential,~_ Alabaster declared, and stopped any protest the Hive Master might raise with a hard stare that made him bare his teeth. _~That, for the moment, is in our interest.~_

_~My lady - ~_ Bonewhite made the attempt anyway, and Guide choked back a snort of amusement that caused a prompt reaction. _~You may not agree, Guide, but her continued placement with us becomes more hazardous with every interaction between us and any other hive. All too soon questions - ~_

She held up a hand and Bonewhite fell silent, obviously chafing. _~It is in our best interest, Hive Master.~ She eyed him. ~It is time for you to dismiss any reservations.~_

_~Having dealt with the creature first hand, it is uncertain whether such modifications are stable.~_ Tired of resurrected arguments, Guide moved on, preferring to concentrate on possible outcomes to future research. _~If we can pinpoint this, it may prove as useful as allowing us to feed on humans without restriction.~_

His words penetrated the brewing argument and both simultaneously said _~Oh?~_

_~Make better use of our similarities,~_ Guide mused, _~and, possibly, as the Consort of Atlantis is wont to say 'even the playing field.'~_ The Hive Master and Alabaster gazed at him suspiciously and he smiled, the points of his teeth bared. _~Something humans might want for themselves, such as longevity?~_

_~That would be an excellent bargaining point with Earth,~_ Alabaster admitted and exchanged a glance with Bonewhite, whose head tilted in interest. 

_~Would it not?~_ he agreed. 

He laughed. Visions of Earth and Atlantis annexed to the Alliance in the future tumbled into his mind, but he did not share them, preferring instead to watch two sets of eyes narrow and speculate.


	28. Chapter 28

What took Jennifer and Sprint by surprise was Alabaster coming to the laboratory, a little while after they got there, with a complete change of plan. Unaccompanied by either Guide or Bonewhite, her eyes flashed with barely suppressed irritation that the two most important members of her council engaged in heated debate, so she declared Jennifer should go to her quarters and rest. Apparently, the disagreement involved lengthy discussion about their next actions and more particularly whether they should kill Lightbreak and be done with the whole affair – a stance The Hive Master favoured, while Guide preferred a more cautious approach, uncertain if the prisoner had other value. 

That it delayed important decisions, Sprint did not doubt, though he could not help but be grateful. He wanted Jennifer to have the time to rest, and he knew Guide did too, despite his capitulation to Alabaster. Though, she still put up a fight, and argued with Alabaster like a sister queen.

> _“So now you want me to go rest?” Jennifer held onto her well-deserved annoyance and bewilderment in the face of the new decision.“What caused this sudden change of heart?” At Alabaster's silence, she must have felt spurred on to further sarcasm. “Did your Commander suddenly grow a pair of -”_
> 
> _“Fair One, this has nothing - and everything - to do with my father -” Alabaster interrupted, and then paced, eventually drawing to a halt to take the woman's hands loosely; she gave an audible sigh - “and having thought further on this, I will be better served if you take your leave from this situation. Guide will undertake the work assisted by Sprint once -” and she bared her teeth with obvious frustration - “he has debated the Hive Master to agreement.”_
> 
> _Jennifer's brows drew together, and she scanned the other woman, interest piqued. “Oh? Do tell me -”_
> 
> _Dryly, Alabaster growled, “You will find out soon enough, Fair One.” She waved an imperative hand, cutting off any other comment threatening to spill forth. “Go, take your leave before I change my mind again.”_

And now, here he was, on another errand. Sprint walked back the way he came and turned on his heel again. For the umpteenth time, he hovered outside Jennifer's quarters, hand poised over the entry panel, torn between leaving to head back to the laboratory and waking her. He dithered a bit longer and then came to a firm decision. A quick wave of his hand activated the doors and they parted with a hiss that sounded very much like a complaint, which triggered all the conflict he took such pains to stamp down. Sprint rather thought a day would not be enough to get her back on her feet, but the problem in the laboratory needed her input. Despite knowing that, Sprint hesitated before he garnered enough command over his guilt to throw his head and shoulders back and take a step across the threshold. Did he believe such nonsense would help either of them in any way at all? No. Ceasing moral castigation, he clenched his fists and stepped more positively into her quarters.

A glance round the sitting area showed no obvious signs of life, so he listened. A soft breath coming from the sleeping alcove gave him the first indication of her presence and Sprint strode over to look down at her. The only sign giving away she lay there were a ruched bundle of blankets, a few unruly tufts of tangled hair on the pillow, and an amorphous lump. A hand groped suddenly, escaping the confines of the covers, flopped across the satiny material to grab and pull it in a fair approximation of a cocoon, a contrast of pale skin and dirty nails against the buttery tones. A mumble. Words not heard and again the soughing of her breath. Surely she would wake, would know he stood there watching? But she did not, it seemed, and she turned, face rising from the blankets as though it was water parting, dark lashes against her cheeks, bruises livid on pale flesh, clear as spilt ink.

Leaning forward, he touched her arm with his fingertips, careful his claws did not touch her skin, clipped short though they were. The lightest, briefest contact with absolutely zero effect. Sprint emitted a soft hiss, and this time shook the Fair One's arm with more force.

“Jennifer.” In the silent room, his voice amplified but she still did not stir, except to roll away and pull the covers further over her head. Her free arm flopped back down, and she mumbled. Sprint made the attempt again, louder. “Jennifer.”

This time he got a response. A slap of a hand into mid air and a moan of protest. 

“Wha'?”

“You must get up,” he insisted and leaned in closer. “We need you in the laboratory.” Every movement stilled, and he spoke again. “Jennifer...”

“Yeah...” The acknowledgement was followed by a groan and the covers were pushed down to free her head and shoulders. Eyes screwed against the light, still fuzzy with sleep, Jennifer lay like a corpse before replying. “Heard you first time.”

“Good,” he said and twitched the blankets off the bed as she made a grab for them. “Hurry.”

“Damn it, cleverman,” Jennifer growled and twisted her feet to the floor, pushing up from the resilient mattress. “You're nearly as demanding as Guide.” She pushed her hair back from her face, groping for a leather thong in the mess of sheets and fur, finding it under a pillow, and managing to pile it into a untidy collection at the back of her neck. Strands escaped, defiant to her attempts. “Can I get dressed, or is it okay if I turn up like this?” 

The cleverman ran his eye over her doubtfully and acquiesced she had a point now he looked at her properly. Rumpled was not the first word to spring to mind. “You did not bathe,” he said, and regretted it because it sounded too much like an accusation. “That is -”

“Shut up, Sprint,” she warned and rose to her feet, grabbed at him when she tottered. “Why the rush?” she asked, her grip tight, and ignored his alarmed _'Fair One...?_ '. “Suddenly there's a fire down there, or what?”

“No... no...” Sprint answered, confused, then realised it was yet another idiom and attempted to hide his vague sense of exasperation. He huffed anyway, and Jennifer's mouth curved slyly. “Some of the results show a false positive and... peculiar markers we need you to assess.”

She stared at him. “Really? You woke me for that?” Sprint managed to fix a penitent expression on his face and she scrutinised him minutely.“Right. Just... help me to the bathing room,” she grumbled, and he complied, allowing her to lean against him. While she got her balance, her stomach gave a violent gurgle and she coloured. “Starving. See if you can rustle up something to eat.”

Perplexed, Sprint sorted through her directions, and decided the only thing that counted was the comment about food. “Did Meroc leave anything before -”

“Sent him away,” she said, and grimaced as they set off across the floor. “Couldn't face food, too exhausted. Thought I'd puke.”

He considered. Guide had been very explicit. Bring her back to the laboratory and do it fast. Well, if she was about to bathe and dress, that would not happen and he gave a mental shrug. He would ensure something was sent to the laboratory while he waited for her to finish, and face the consequences of his decision when he got there. Brushing Jennifer's mindscape showed him she was boiling for an argument and Sprint felt he would rather she directed whatever misgivings she had at the Commander. 

“Understandable,” he murmured, and having delivered her into the room, turned away as she stepped into the sunken bath. 

The sound of water running followed as did small noises and splashes, so Sprint crossed to a small panel set in the wall. He toggled the switches, scanning the small monitor to locate Meroc's quarters, and hoped the man had decided he would stay there until called for. As far as he knew, Guide had not requested his attendance at the laboratory, which meant he should be available to take meals to there.

Luck held, and Meroc's face appeared. A frown travelled his features when he saw Sprint but he controlled the expression and responded quickly enough. “Your desire?”

“The Fair One requires food. Take it to the laboratory immediately.” 

“Is there anything she asked for in particular?”

Sprint thought, and shook his head. “A selection of whatever you deem most suitable will suffice.”

“As you wish,” the man replied, and the screen faded to darkness. 

Turning from it, Sprint padded into Jennifer's living area and looked for her holdall. He spotted it on the window seat that faced inwards to the right flank of the hive and, for a moment, he stared over at it, the flicker of lights, the stars burning a thousand different hues. So much had happened to him since he met her. So very much. He was hardly the same cleverman first assigned to her service and such things he had learned... yes, a more rounded person now, he knew. Idly, Sprint wondered what the future would bring? Perhaps he could go to Atlantis, and the thought warmed him. Excited him. He exhaled, conscious of his heart thudding with the notion and picked up the bag, looking over her desk, seeking the things Jennifer stashed in its seemingly capacious interior. 

Tablet. Machine she kept music... what did she call it...? MP3 player, that was it. There. Notebooks. Yes... He stuffed the items in one at a time, saving the tablet until last, and placed it with more care. Laptop? 

It was open, the screen tumbling images across its glassy surface and, not for the first time, he watched them. Blue skies, yellow light, trees, humans and buildings, all without context, animals he had no reference for, and occasionally a glimpse of the Ancient's city, spires gleaming like amber in the setting sun. One picture always captured his attention and fascinated him. A city not of Pegasus, glass and metal, concrete stretching out across the horizon, a river, its silver brightness running through it bright as a new scar. Earth. 

“You finished being nosey?” A slim hand reached past him and shut the machine, hiding the monitor from him.

“Where is that?” he asked, hoping she would say, but doubted if she would. “One day, I would like to see your world.” At his side Jennifer radiated temper, but he shot her a glance anyway. There was surely no harm in asking?

A speculative expression entered her eyes and she canted her head while she mulled over his request. The ends of her hair dripped, he noticed, left runnels on the soft leather of her coat. Finally, a hint a reservation still in the tone. “London. It's called London.”

“London.” The name felt exotic on his tongue, and he tried it again, whispered it, the syllables resonating and alien. “Lon-don.” 

“Yes.” Taking the machine, she opened it, seemed to fumble then made a decision, beat a rapid tattoo on the keyboard and turned it. Another picture filled the screen. “It's old, this city. But it isn't my home.”

Sprint traced a claw down the screen, and the view expanded, brought it larger and to sharper relief. “So many humans,” he whispered, and snatched his hand back, embarrassed by the sudden hunger it wrought in him. “You think perhaps it will not happen?” he asked, noticing she did not mention seeing Earth.

“Not until they can accept we aren't alone in the universe and a lot more is sorted out besides,” Jennifer murmured, but her eyes showed a hint of concern. “Maybe we can take baby steps and get you to Atlantis?”

“Truly?” Sprint hoped she was right, though somehow he knew it would not be easy.

She shrugged, non-committal. “I have to go back there and taking you with me makes sense.” Closing the laptop again, she slipped it into its case and stowed it under her arm. “You'd like it, I think.”

He narrowed his eyes. “And Guide...?”

“I don't have an answer to that, cleverman,” she said, and took the bag from him by its straps to sling it across her shoulder. “Let's go.”

~xxXXxx~

Bonewhite halted in front of the cell holding the enemy blade and he drew closer to the doors, conscious when Lightbreak's eyes lit on him and passed over, a curl already formed on the man's mouth, considering him. Not that Lightbreak would do any less or feel less. There would never be understanding between them. Whatever commonality they, as Wraith, had once had, was now thoroughly and inexorably destroyed. The prisoner was a liability and the paths they had chosen were incompatible. 

_~And yet,~_ Lightbreak said, his mind having brushed the surface of Bonewhite's thoughts, _~I still live.~_

 _~Are you so eager, then, to face death?~_ Bonewhite leaned in to the bars. _~There are those among us who welcome your immediate demise and relish the opportunity to fulfil your desire.~_

The younger man unfurled his lean body from a crouch and took a step to the centre of the cell. Light flowed on him, framing every feature in sharp contrast, hair reflecting blue from the depths of its unnatural darkness, sallow skin almost human clear. Only yellow, slitted, Wraith eyes stared back at him, fuelled with contempt and something less obvious. Pride? Yes, pride. After everything, the blade still clung to that.

 _~Let them come. Death is a merely a transition,~_ Lightbreak stated with an almost religious certainty Bonewhite found repellent. _~Mine will not change what is to come.~_

A fine legacy, indeed. Bonewhite wrapped his fingers around the flesh bars of the doors, the slight elasticity giving way beneath his fingers. There was loyalty, and then there was this. He could do no more than consider it an insanity.

 _~And what is to come, I wonder?~_ he mused, interested in an answer, if, indeed there was one. _~What plans do you have for Pegasus?~_

 _~You cannot possibly imagine.~_ The blade tossed his hair back, and glared at Bonewhite. _~But there will come a day, Hive Master, when you will regret what you have done.~_

 _~Perhaps,~_ Bonewhite conceded. _~As yet, however, I do not.~_

 _~All your kind will fall, and the humans with you,~_ Lightbreak hissed, and his teeth gleamed, sharp and bright.

Bonewhite chuckled. _~You will lose,~_ he said, certain of it.

Lightbreak's mouth curved again, the tips of teeth exposed in another brief flash before it went back to familiar, sneering lines. _~What of the doubts you have, Hive Master?~_

Bonewhite stiffened and raked over the captive. An air sat on him. One beyond the ever present scorn and contempt, a spark he had not noticed before, one that bore closer examination.

 _~Doubts?~_ he repeated, cautious, not wishing to alert Lightbreak any more than necessary to his personal, and private, standpoint. _~What makes you say that?~_

_~You do not agree with your Commander's vision for the future any more than I.~_

_~You are mistaken,~_ Bonewhite said, and he was firm in that belief. _~Wraith must move past what is known, and change.~_ It sounded so easy, so simple, he almost laughed. _~We will change; we must.~_

_~But in such a manner.~_ Lightbreak coughed, and he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth. It came away smeared green. _~To set aside -~_

 _~Set aside what? Extinction?~_ the Hive Master snapped, leaning into the door, his face a breath from the corded bars. _~There is no loss here. Cooperation, not subjugation as you would seem to believe, is our way forward.~_

“Wraith will always be weak if they depend upon humans,” the blade said, breaking into Lantean, as if to punctuate his point. “And you cannot know what the future will hold.”

“None of us know that,” the Hive Master growled, unwilling to prolong the conversation. “There are those who have come to us in the hope of once more becoming Wraith – your brothers.” 

At this Lightbreak made a disgusted noise. “Weak-minded, pathetic and typical of males,” he hissed. “They have no foresight and merely wish to be led. Another weakness of Wraith,” he scoffed.

That he could not deny. They relied on their queens to make every decision and fell into line all too easily, but how could they do otherwise when their women were so rare and so desperately needed? Bonewhite locked a hard stare on Lightbreak, curious then how he might respond. Pointedly, he switched the language back. _~They choose to join with us and our Queen, to break the cycle of dependency on humans, to live together.~_

“Harmony,” Lightbreak scoffed. “A ridiculous notion and one doomed to failure.”

_~Already we gain allies willing to work towards this goal – even among human populations -~_

“You think they will forget what you are?” The blade laughed, a chilly sound, and tipped his head; Bonewhite could feel his ferocious mind questing along the seams of his own thoughts, seeking, ever seeking. “Without the changes my brethren are developing your chances of success remain small. Do you imagine your brothers will wish to be grateful to humans?”

Narrow-eyed, Bonewhite examined him when he began to pace the breadth of the cell. _~Your_ brethren - ~ and he spat the word - _~do not seem to have your conviction.~_ What then of those they already added to their numbers? Were they as contaminated as this creature? He spoke the words but began to doubt their truth. _~They welcome our intervention and what we offer.~_

Lightbreak spun back to face him, stalked closer. He wagged his finger. “Ah, not all are as enlightened, Hive Master.”

By enlightened, Bonewhite took he meant the intriguing genetic markers they found in his genome. Something for which both Guide and Sprint needed Keller's help to understand, it seemed. He played it low key. _~Is that so?~_

“Now, now,” Lightbreak purred, mood shifting fast, “I can't give away all my secrets, can I?”

 _~You will, soon enough, one way or another.~_

“Mark my words, not all Wraith will accept this -” and he made an expansive, derisive gesture, stepping up to the bars - “ _vision_ ; your Commander is wrong. The day will come when you will see there is _no_ lasting pact Wraith and humans can make.” Deeming the conversation futile, the Hive Master turned away, intent on leaving, but Lightbreak's voice continued to grate in his ears. “For true victory -” Bonewhite cast a quick look over his shoulder when the younger man paused; he noted with satisfaction how he reigned in the impulse to finish him then and there - “we must both evolve.”

How his eyes glinted with maniacal fervour, a flame that consumed him from the inside. Bonewhite blocked a shiver, and moved off, determined to ignore the rising dismay squirming in his guts and the aggression implicit in the words. As he viewed the premise cast by Lightbreak, he wanted to make light of the threat, but found he could not. A universe full of hybrids, such as himself and Obsidian, neither Wraith nor human but something utterly different. An idea he thought died with Lastlight when he breathed his last on the foundations of Atlantis. The bleak hatred contained within the idea blew frigid winds across his mind, freezing his blood. To subsume everything rather than accept diversity, the result a hideous monotony with no way to preserve unique differences between sibling races. This... man's... way, there might be peace, but at what cost? It would be a polar thing, without challenge, without change, without growth. With the retrovirus... with Wraith able to feed but not kill... there might be hope. At least with Guide's vision, they did not give up the essence that made them Wraith. He would take that narrow chance of cooperation between humans and Wraith, the possibility of lasting, genuine, peace, in preference to any glacial alternative this twisted being proposed. 

The Hive Master took another glance at the male behind him; Lightbreak's face held a look of pure trickster, full of sneering, cruel amusement. Baring teeth in disgust, Bonewhite stalked down the hallway, skin creeping from the man's clamorous insanity. 

“You cannot know, Hive Master.” Lightbreak's voice echoed after him, filled with smug certainty. “And then you will all die.”

Bonewhite kept walking. 

~xxXXxx~

Flick. Flick... the screen changed with each each deft movement of Alabaster's fingers, a different image settling for her to peruse in a hurried manner. Just enough time to digest the basics they contained, enough to raise questions at the next Council. Her fingers skipped again. Another picture, another representation. For a second Alabaster closed her eyes, wishing it all over, that enemies and the potential for allies did not appear to lurk in every corner of the galaxy, waiting for one false step, one small slip to bring them to disaster. Ever a new threat waiting for them, along with hunting out the remaining pockets of resistance left by Lastlight. A task that seemed more and more impossible with everything they learned.

_~Mother?~_

The word sliced through her attention, knife like, and she sat back, stretched her back and welcomed the distraction from her overwrought imagination. Shoving the tablet away from her across the table top, Alabaster turned to her son. His face reflected curiosity. _~What is it?~_

_~What are you doing?~_

She cast a glance over the tablet's now blackened surface, then focussed on the boy, prepared for more questions. _~Nothing you need concern yourself with, my blade.~_

The boy digested the information and tilted his head, apparently satisfied with the answer and not interested enough in adult goings on to pursue his line of questioning. Instead, he changed the subject with all the single-minded focus of any child. _~Will we go back to Meer'cha soon? I would like to see Foleen again.~_

A simple enough request, but one not likely to be acted on – at least, not yet. There was still too much to do, too many threads that needed careful attention. _~That is not possible right now, child.~_

She gave him a lopsided smile, and ran her fingers through the heavy mass of silver hair tumbling from his forehead. Green eyes measured her, a faint disappointment lingering in their depths, which faded to resignation.

With a maturity she had not realised he possessed, he said, gravely, borrowing a human term, _~Grown-up stuff, I suppose?~_

 _~Yes,~_ she agreed, both amused by his choice of words – too long with Lanteans - and wishing she could give a different response.

 _~I would like to go home,~_ he whispered, suddenly, and made to turn away, shoulders slumped.

Catching his face in her hand, she turned it up to gaze into his eyes again, shared an affinity for their lost harmony. _~As would I, my son.~_

Home. The word hung there, almost concrete, and she could hardly fault Darling for the thought or longing it spawned. A far simpler time, when there had grown a trust and respect between she and the humans. Not knowing whether her father lived or died, or be embroiled in the complexities of Wraith politics, with the added, unexpected, complication of balancing the need of Wraith and human in an Alliance that threatened to fall with every opportunity had been a luxury of extraordinary value. It gave her a rare perspective. One many Wraith would never understand or want to understand, for that matter. But even if Wraith could change, could humans?

She believed those she knew and... yes... held dear, those who were friends, embraced the notion with as much expectancy as she tentatively held within herself. It roiled within her heart, on one hand the conviction they would fail and all would be for nothing, yet on the other... She hardly dare consider it... success. No, it would not be simple, but then what was worthwhile seldom claimed to be easy. They could only do what was necessary. And if all would strive towards the same goal then she could hear it begin to take a faltering breath.

 _~I miss my friends,~_ Darling admitted, interrupting her thoughts, and his eyes locked on the tablet, a flicker of resentment gone before she could reprimand him for it. _~It gets boring.~_

Alabaster considered her son. Wondered about allowing him greater access to the Council – he had to learn after all – but she found she clung to his childhood, wished it could last longer. _~Yes,~_ she agreed, calm in the face of such an attitude because what they had been through recently could hardly be termed boring – though from a child's perspective, she supposed it might and it brought to mind many times when Snow and Guide were embroiled in some coup or other. _~I dare say it must, my son.~_ Which left her with a larger issue. What to do with a child so plainly chafing and in need of companionship? _~How is your combat training?~_

He shrugged and opened his mouth to respond, but the door entry warbled and they slid open, a harried Wintersong stooping into a low bow, long hair falling like a curtain of silk. _~My queen,~_ he hissed and rose, acknowledging the boy with a faint nod. _~We have heard from the Nova Blast and Burn.~_ He handed her another tablet and she arched a brow at him. _~They appear to have located another nest of dissidents.~_

Another? So soon, too. _~It is to be expected,~_ she intoned, and wondered how many more they would need to find and destroy before the threat they represented was gone? _~How far?~_

 _~Thirty or so light years, my lady,~_ the blade replied and straightened, waited for further instructions, his gaze locked on her. _~Further into this territory.~_

Alabaster hissed, concerned about the need to go into areas long held by others. It would send a clear message. Too clear, she felt, and fought down the urge to turn back from the course they chose to follow. Instead, she looked over the report, satisfied with the data.

 _~Damage?~_ she asked, wondering if Venture could take any more. 

_~We are making reasonable headway with repairs, lady,~_ he answered, _~and the clevermen are proceeding with improvements to the engines. Efficiency should increase by some ten percent, reducing the time spent between hops.~_

Impressed, she spent longer going over the details than expected, chewing over the state of the ship and the length of time needed to finish so they could get underway. A brief touch to the hive mind bombarded her with information; a weary ship in need of repair, longing for peace to lick its many wounds. Weariness they all felt, she thought, grimly. Sighing, she glanced up at Wintersong whose attention had gone to Darling. His hand rested on the boy's shoulder, and her son's face shone with hero worship. At least some things were well. A faint tickle at the edge of her senses announced the imminent arrival of Guide and Bonewhite.

 _~My son,~_ she said, drawing the boy's attention, _~leave us for a while. Perhaps you could visit the Fair One?~_

 _~She is busy,~_ he answered, and the tone was sulky. 

_~Never too busy to speak with you,~_ Guide's voice affirmed, and Darling turned to watch his grand-sire enter the room, the Hive Master scant metres behind.

 _~But...~_ the boy began, but Guide dismissed him with a quick wave of his hand.

 _~Escort her to the Worshippers quarters and stay a while with her. She will welcome the chance for that, as well as your presence.~_ He exchanged a quick glance with his second. _~I fear the recent company she kept has overtired her much.~_

Bonewhite stifled a rude noise, striding past Wintersong after a perfunctory nod in Alabaster's direction. She lifted a curious brow at Guide in question and he conveyed the answer with a single eloquent shrug. Ah. So Jennifer and the Hive Master were once again in disagreement. 

_~The Fair One is otherwise in good health?~_

_~Better than expected,~_ her father admitted, albeit reluctantly, conscious of Darling's burning curiosity. _~We would speak to you of other concerns.~_

 _~Excellent,~_ Bonewhite growled, gaze locked on the bottle of wine on the table. He proceeded to pour a generous helping into a goblet, taking a moment to savour it before he took a long draft. Realising several sets of eyes fixed on him, he bared teeth before adding, _~Dr. Keller is in particularly fine form.~_

Darling shifted, uneasy with the sudden circulation of adult emotion sweeping into the room. Alabaster could not blame him. If she had been a child, she would have wanted to get as far away as possible from the belligerent undertones swirling about with such energy. Ruffled was the term she could apply to Bonewhite, though he became more settled as the seconds ticked by.

 _~Go now, my son,~_ she said, and ushered the boy towards the doors, held open helpfully by her father whose eyes held an amused glint. _~Jennifer will be pleased to see you, I do not doubt.~_

 _~Persuade her to the arboretum,~_ Guide murmured, as an afterthought it seemed, bending close to the boy, _~and mention I will meet her there.~_

Knowing he was dismissed, thoroughly, did not sit well with Darling and he scowled, his nervousness transmuting to intense curiosity. Alabaster sensed an objection and countered it effectively. _~I believe she has heard recently from Teyla Emmagan and Torren.~_

_~Really?~_

_~Yes.~_

There was another moment when Alabaster thought Darling might mutiny while he mulled it over, but a stern glance from Guide had him scurrying out of the door and down the corridor towards the nearest transport. Relieved, she crossed to the table where Bonewhite poured more into his goblet, and filled hers without speaking a word, offering it as he threw himself into a seat. When she took a mouthful, it tasted like wood and sweetfruit, hitting the back of her tongue with the subtlety of a hammer.

 _~Not the best I've ever tasted,~_ he huffed, brooding, something dark in him. 

_~It is not just Jennifer, Hive master, is it?~_ Alabaster took the seat opposite, assessing the blade keenly. Wintersong took a goblet as well, and joined them both; he draped himself on the floor in an elegant line, leaning slightly against the arm of her chair. Absently, she played with a strand of his hair when it fell across her knee. ~S _omething else bothers you.~_

A shadow passed the periphery of her vision and she looked over at Guide, who examined the bottle, and sniffed the neck. His expression told her he did not care much for its contents. _~This is not one of the best from recent harvests, daughter,~_ he said, but poured a goblet anyway, making his way over to the remaining chair to settle his long body into its depths. _~There are better vintages.~_

Still brooding, Bonewhite swirled his wine in the glass, the plummy colours enriched to purple by the light. _~Many things were better in other years.~_

 _~Hive Master?~_ Alabaster's tone came sharp as glass, slashed through his mood with an imperative.

He lifted his head, and nodded, a reluctant acceptance. _~Forgive me, my queen.~_ Pausing, he considered the liquid, focussed past it. _~The prisoner... his assertions trouble me.~_

 _~The prisoner should trouble you,~_ Guide said, dryly, tilting the glass and taking a swallow. _~There is nothing about him that engenders anything but threat.~_

 _~Tell me,~_ Alabaster demanded, uninterested in the general mood or how her fledgling zennana shifted. 

_~Oh, he is convinced of our defeat at the hands of his compatriots.~_ Unruffled, Guide threw the pronouncement into the room with the finesse of a grenade. _~He foresees our imminent demise.~_

She dismissed his comment. _~As have many others before and we withstood them.~_

 _~At least in those circumstance we were aware of the size of the problem,~_ Bonewhite muttered, and reached for the bottle, snagging it from Guide to fill his glass. _~We must destroy him, Guide, my queen. We risk insurrection the longer he lives.~_

 _~So dangerous?~_ Wintersong asked, his gaze passing from one to the other.

 _~Yes,~_ the Hive Master said, and tipped the bottle up, the dregs dripping slowly. He waved it. _~Is there more?~_ Reluctantly, Alabaster nodded assent and he set it down at the side of the chair.

 _~Getting drunk will accomplish nothing,~_ Guide snapped, but Bonewhite ignored him and pushed himself out of the seat to explore the rest of the table. _~Though it would seem you feel different.~_

 _~It will, indeed, accomplish nothing,~_ Bonewhite repeated, but located what he wanted and grabbed two bottles to take back to his seat. _~On this occasion, I find I do not care.~_

 _~Hive Master,~_ Alabaster said, cold, _~I prefer it if you remain sober.~_

 _~My lady, so do I – generally.~_ He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, suddenly serious. _~We have taken members of his crew aboard and if, as he seems to believe, he can influence them, and I believe it though I would prefer not to, then we are at risk.~_

 _~Guide?~_ She needed verification. There were things that pointed to a much more circumspect policy where this one male was concerned. Touching on it and him made her wary. 

Guide contemplated the glass in his hand, then met her eyes. _~His is a mind of unusual aptitude. He has many hybrid strengths we do not.~_

 _~And yet you will not hear of his disposal.~_ The accusation hung there, and Guide's mouth twisted, eyes flicking to the side to observe his second. ~ _He is dangerous.~_

 _~Yet,~_ Guide countered, measured his second and his friend. _~Perhaps if you had not killed -~_

 _~Father.~_ Alabaster growled a warning, and he subsided, rethinking his next sentence.

 _~We need time, lady.~_

_~How much time?~_

_~Long enough for the Fair One and I to decipher at least a part of his genome.~_ When she frowned, Guide gave a hesitant, reluctant, answer. _~Seven days... more perhaps.~_

She faced Bonewhite then, who continued to drink, his thoughts chaotic and filled with dire scenarios she could not help but witness. Terrible things. _~Sub-Commander,~_ she said, _~is a week long enough?~_

 _~Long enough?~_ he repeated, intent on his glass and gave a raw growl of laughter. The goblet twisted in his fingers, talons tapping against the glass, and he veered from the conversation. _~Do you still ask why I killed Obsidian, Guide?~_ he asked, suddenly, surprising Alabaster who also saw no point in skirting the uncomfortable issue lurking between them. _~If a mere blade in her chain of command can presume to change the minds of those she ruled, then how dangerous would she have been to allow on this ship?~_ He shook his head, drunk enough not to give damn about courtesy. _~Do your experiments, but be certain you can muzzle him because I have no desire to dwell on the consequences if he regains access to his brothers.~_

 _~If he is, indeed, so dangerous,~_ Wintersong interjected, before comment could be made by either Alabaster or Guide, _~how do we know he will not corrupt our own crew? And if he can, as the Hive master postulates, then I too can see no reason to stay his execution.~_

Bonewhite raised his glass in silent salute to the point, ignoring the scathing look sent his way from Guide. A ringing silence followed, each of them caught in speculation, until Alabaster shook herself from the spell it evoked. 

_~Five days,~_ Guide said, mind guarded behind formidable barriers and face locked into an impervious mask. _~That's the best I can do.~_

 _~Three, if that's acceptable with Bonewhite?~_ Alabaster raked over the Hive Master, who took another long draught and bared his teeth once he had swallowed. She could not be sure if it was not amusement?

 _~Three it is,~_ Guide murmured and refilled his own goblet, a brief glitter in his eyes.

Alabaster scanned him, shrewdly, and sighed through her nose. It seemed he had, once again, manoeuvred them into getting what he already wanted. Her fingers drummed on the arm of the chair.

 _~What of the Fair One, Guide? Has she made a choice as to whether she will go or stay?~_

Guarded, even more so, if it could be claimed, he said, _~I do not know. I have not yet asked her, my queen. It -~_ Guide hesitated, looked as if he reached for an explanation as to why such an important decision had been overlooked- ~ _has not yet seemed appropriate.~_

 _~Then perhaps it should, Commander,~_ Alabaster snarled, irritated both by his manipulation and because he appeared to be avoiding an uncomfortable fact. More emotionally invested than he should be, probably, but then human faces swam in front of her mind to remind her of their loyalty and loving generosity. She pulled back a further waspish comment in recognition of the fact. _~We need an answer soon. Very soon.~_

He accepted the charge with a brusque nod and an air of resignation. _~As you will it.~_

Alabaster felt no particular surprise at his reluctance, and canted her head in acknowledgement. _~I look forward to hearing a positive outcome.~_

~xxXXxx~

Epilogue

At first, Guide thought the arboretum empty. Nothing to hear apart from the buzz of insects and the lulling sound of water as it played, splashing merrily across rock, over the hive's pliant, accommodating surface as it set its own course. Small creatures stirred, rasped, hissed, or bounced their way through the habitat, nothing larger than a cat, though why thoughts of that animal sprang to mind, he had no idea. He allowed his mind to drift instead, searching for the one note he wanted, despite scepticism, and found it after all. It occurred to him that doubting she would heed his request was arrant nonsense so he followed the tendril, knowing where she would go.

Pushing past fronds that shaded the path with lush, dark green, he made his way apace to Jennifer's favourite spot on the entire deck, where a break in the vegetation provided a small meadow-like area surrounded by scented primrose-yellow blooms. The soft artificial breeze bobbed their heads and they dipped, danced with it, bowing their stems further when, attracted by the flutter of petals, fat, burgundy insects landed with vibrating, gossamer wings. Jennifer called them 'bees', though he doubted from her description that was what they were even if the ecological niche they filled happened to be similar to that of Earthly creatures.

At the edge of the glade, he paused to watch her. Bent over, she reached for something in the blooms, coming up with hands cupped round each other. Untidy hair escaped the tail she had pulled it into, the ends curling when it brushed against her cleverman's collar, strands hanging over her brow that she used a forearm to brush out of her face before she peeked between her fingers. Guide indulged himself further, content to wait and find out what captured her interest. 

The Fair One's attention focused on a small reptile that clung to her fingers with sticky toes, the vivid shades of purple and yellow on its flanks announcing its masculinity. It flicked a small black tongue over her fingers, searching for salt, no doubt, and she gave a soft laugh. She murmured something he did not catch and leaned over to place the creature back among the flowers. 

Eagerly, it scampered up a stem, the flower head bending and springing back when it launched sideways into a larger clump, the flash of red flight membranes bright against the dark grey foliage. As it continued on its way, he saw a smile curve her lips and he brushed against her mind, a more solid announcement of his presence.

“Fair One,” he said, and she turned, her gaze seeking him among the shadows. 

She came to him then, hands outstretched, and he took them when she reached him, placing them on his chest. He covered them with his feeding hand and tilted her face up with the other, scanning her carefully. The signs of tiredness were gone, replaced by a soft glow he found appealing. Jennifer returned his gaze, eyes flashing with humour, irritation, and something infinitely softer. His stomach flipped, sudden vertigo threatening.

“You are well?” he asked, more controlled, and then cursed himself for a fool. Inanity? Really? 

“Well,” she said, and wickedness glimmered on her features for a moment, “no one has fed on me today, tried a kidnap, violence or forced me to work till I drop.” 

Guide harrumphed and bared teeth at her, amused. “I can remedy that,” he offered, but she gave an evil chuckle, turned her mouth to his bared wrist and nipped him sharply. Lust flared. “That,” he growled into her ear, the tone low, “was provocative.”

“Good,” she growled back, eyes sparkling and mouth close to his.

Guide snatched the kiss offered, relishing her eager response, the taste of her lips as they parted, and it dragged him somewhere dark and dangerous, exciting, forbidden, as enticing as the golden stream of life he sensed throbbing in her veins. He broke it. Reluctant. This was not the reason he sought her out; there would be time later. Now he had to know. Needed to know. 

“Come.” 

All business, he set her hand in the crook of his arm and took the well-described path that wound through the arboretum. They walked in silence for a while, but Guide could taste her emotions as they flickered across the top layer of her thoughts. Concern featured high on the list, and wariness – for which he could not blame her at all. So much danger recently. Too much, if he was honest. And she had been willing to place herself at the centre of it for the sake of their alliance. Not for the first time, his heart clenched, and he glanced down at her as they moved through the foliage, struck again by her bravery though he had ceased to feel astonished by it for some time.

“What's the matter?” 

The question took him by surprise and it should not have. If nothing else, Jennifer Keller could read him well, her singular and efficient sense of empathy played its part well despite a lack of anything approaching telepathy. 

“What makes you ask?” 

“We don't normally go for a walk.”

Guide chuckled, then sobered again, realising she was right. They did not. He attempted something lighter, away from where his mind wandered. “Then perhaps it is time for us to correct that oversight?”

She threw him a speculative look, mouth pursed. “Oh yeah... right. You aren't exactly what I had in mind as a romantic liaison.”

Guide eyed her. “No?” When she gave him an exasperated stare, his mouth twisted. “Still, my dear, it is past time when we should visit here, do you not think?” 

She gave a strangled laugh, and Guide placed his hand on hers, already thinking ahead to the coming conversation. How to broach it? How to phrase it so she would not deem it manipulation? To know whether... If...? He stifled the lurch of emptiness stabbing at him, refused to let it take hold and brought his mind back to this place. This moment. It was not done yet. 

Guide cocked his head and drew her to a halt before the great window set above them. The flicker from the hyper-stream intensified the blue light in the chamber and cast them both into a dance of sudden brilliance and shadow. 

“It is beautiful, is it not?” he murmured and she turned, rested against him, head on his shoulder. 

“Yes.”

Like a fine wine, her scent writhed round him, a very human aroma, moderated by the faintest hint of flowers and full of overtones wrought by the retrovirus. Warmth seeped through her jacket, and he wrapped one arm about her waist, content. Time ceased to have meaning, destroyed by the simple pleasure of being at one with the other, but eventually she shifted and gave a soft breathe.

“You didn't just want to watch the display, did you?” Guide detected her mood shifted from contentment to a more volatile state, expressed in an explosive comment. “Damn. You got me at it. A conversation represented by questions.”

“It is still a valid form of communication,” he observed, and used his off hand to stroke the silken length of her hair; the ends wrapped around his fingers, caught in the roughness of his skin, his badly manicured talons. “One that still allows for an exchange, though not ideally suited to an exchange of information,” he conceded, still teasing.

“More beating about the bush,” Jennifer grumbled, then nudged him with her elbow when he snorted. “Except...” She trailed off and tipped her head up to look at him and gestured towards the arboretum and window, determined to get back on subject. “This is not why you wanted to talk to me.”

“No, little one.”

It would not take long for her to recognise his reasons, he knew, and he could wait patiently until she did. This fork in the path required much thoughtful consideration and he would not rush it, or rush her, simply because he preferred a positive outcome – one that would favour him, and his Alliance. The choice had to come from her and he would abide by it; in that he could do nothing else. Silence settled between them again and Guide found himself content to allow it.

“You want to know,” Jennifer said, at last, and her voice hardly broke above a whisper. 

“Yes.” What more could he say? Her people waited for her; he could not deny her that.

“I must go back sometime,” she said, and Guide tightened his arm in response, tensing while he waited for her to deliver the final decision. “My dad...” Her voice trailed off, and he nodded, understanding. He was a father too, and the loss of Alabaster had been a terrible grief, almost unbearable; her recovery a joy without measure. “He... well... I -”

“No need to explain.” 

“Earth is still home.” Guide waited for her to say more, sensing her confusion and need to put into words exactly what she felt. “Atlantis has my friends.” 

“And?” he prompted gently, certain she would say more.

“It's where I belong, Guide.”

He bowed his head, mouth against her hair. Farewell, then? Oh, he could argue she belonged here with them... that friendship did not need to be limited to humans, that she was more than Kine to those who knew her. That for him she had become something precious. It took him some moments to speak.

“Indeed.” The single word rippled through them and Jennifer dipped her head, setting her fingers on his arm. “I did not expect you would stay, Jennifer.”

“Neither did I,” she admitted and turned in his arms. Her face swam, pale, in front of him and it felt like midnight came. “Except...”

“Except?” Guide repeated, slanted his head as he examined her. A small grain of hope took root, but he refused to allow it further growth.

“I don't want to go.” He started to speak, but her fingers on his lips stopped whatever rested on his tongue. “There's too much to do here. Too much to find out.” Confused, he stared at her, but hope grew, shooting under the warmth that spread through his core. “I thought it would be easy, and I'd go home straight away, start back up where I left off.” She captured his gaze, thundered through whatever controls he had and the sprout twisted to fully grown. “But I can't go yet. I can't.” Guide sighed, and rested his forehead against hers. “Say something,” she said.

“I find I cannot.” 

So he answered her the only way he knew could convey how he felt and cupped her chin with his off hand, and kissed her slow and deep, drinking in the taste and feel. She held onto him, one hand fisted in his hair, her grasp almost desperate, until she pulled away and took a deep shuddering breath, resting until both their hearts slowed. And then, together they faced the portal again, watched streaks of light filter into the chamber.

It was enough.

Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken me far too long to finish this, what was supposed to be a fun little examination of what went on after Jen left with Guide. Somewhere along the line, it turned into something dark and brooding (I do that all the time), examining what it means too be 'people' and the nature of love. Anyhoo... what I want to say is, thank you for reading and enjoying my take on SGA Wraith. I can only hope it was worth the ride.
> 
> IJ.


End file.
